


The Desert Truant.

by InfinitexJester



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:44:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 32,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/710923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfinitexJester/pseuds/InfinitexJester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ja'far's irritation at Sinbad's constant disappearances turns into something more then he'd expected. Sinja. Hoping to develop this eventually to cover the war and other events although mostly will be AU. Rated M for future content.  (For some reason this site won't let me add italics where I'd put them so it doesn't read as well as I'd like.  Originally all thoughts are written in italics to differentiate - the better version is over on my FF.net account.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sinbad was surely shirking his duties again. It was as always, not a surprise to find the King was not where he was supposed to be but elsewhere, drinking or flirting with ladies. It annoyed Ja'far as it always had done but he was, if nothing else; used to it by now.

He sighed in irritation and set about to search for him in the usual places. People nodded at him at him, bow sometimes as he passed, knowing him to be one of the Generals but his worried expression remained. The point was that sometimes he wished he had been given a more reliable man to work with. Oh, Sin was reliable when it counted – when Sindria was in danger, when Ja'far himself had been in grave trouble years before.

But the day to day problems? Nowhere to be found. Ja'far had lost count of the times he'd had to drag Sinbad back from whatever foolishness he'd been pursuing. He wrinkled his nose a little now at the remembrance. In a way though, he was still surprised that he had any effect on Sin at all. Yet, every time he was admonished Sin, he would still despite his joking, go back with Ja'far. That Sinbad respected him was not something that had ever entered his mind.

Eventually he'd found him, for once actually involved in something more useful; training with Alibaba in the practice grounds. For a few seconds, he simply watched the two. The youngster was far below Sin in skill as was to be expected but there was definitely some potential there, he noted. And Sinbad of course, was Sinbad. The same unbelievable power and confidence that always exuded from his presence was only intensified in the battlefield. Then he saw Sin's golden eyes flash in his direction and he knew he'd been spotted. He clutched his hands together guiltily inside the expanse of his sleeves and stepped forward.

"Sin, there are matters requiring your attention. The trade routes have been blocked again, for example..."

"Yes, Ja'far. I know. We're done here for today, Alibaba? You're improving, you know. Perhaps someday, you'll even surpass me!"

The blonde boy flustered a little at the compliment and disappeared pretty quickly. Ja'far's lips twitched a little as he struggled to pull in a laugh. The boy was so obviously in awe of the King – he wondered if he would feel the same if he had to monitor him every day as Ja'far did. And yet, in a way Ja'far could not help but admire him too.

Sinbad strode over to Ja'far, weapons already cast aside. He peered intently for a second at Ja'far's face, who stared back with a slight frown.

"Was that almost a smile then?" Sin said, his voice almost bursting with laughter itself.

"No. Of course not. Don't be so foolish. It was... nothing of the sort. Now, if you're quite finished-"

Sinbad yawned at the forced change of subject.

"Yes, yes I know, the trade routes. I do wish the blasted things would look after themselves, sometimes."

His hand reached out suddenly and Ja'far was too surprised to step away. Sinbad's fingers lightly brushed the play of freckles on Ja'far's cheek and then he grinned with an air of mischief.

"You should smile more, you know Ja'far. You don't do it nearly enough."

Ja'far bit his lip, feeling again the heavy weight of the weapons strapped to his arms.

"Oh, shut up. It's your fault why I frown so much, anyway. If you would just be where you're supposed to be..."

He turned away with a swish of his robes, so Sinbad could not see the faint redness rising on the skin the King had touched.

"Boring, boring," Sin complained, waving his hand elaborately to emphasise his point. Still, he followed Ja'far as they walked back into the palace, until Sinbad stopped him, holding fast to his shoulder.

"Your face is red," He said softly.

"It's the heat," Ja'far replied, holding Sinbad's gaze firmly, as if daring him to comment further. Thinking wisely perhaps, Sinbad didn't. Even he knew to press Ja'far's temper would not end well.


	2. Chapter Two.

Disguise had never been Sin's speciality: he was too brash, too much himself to be able to hide well. Which for Ja'far meant that security issues were always a problem.

Still he knew better then to try and restrict the King's freedom – he may listen to him on other matters, but on this issue he would always be blithely ignored. It irritated him. Yes, Sinbad was probably strong enough to take care of any trouble that came his way. That wasn't the point. The point was that Ja'far had a general's duty – and often Sinbad would obstruct that duty.

Sinbad eyed him with a wry expression through the hood of his cloak.

"Now then Ja'far, don't look at me like that. I'm allowed to have some fun, aren't I?"

"I know the kind of fun you want to have. You're too old for all that, Sinbad – it doesn't suit your duty."

Sinbad pulled a face and examined his face closely in the reflecting glass. "Do I really look so old? Too old for beautiful women and drinking all night?"

Ja'far sighed in exasperation. Of course, Sinbad's skin looked unlined and he showed no visible signs of age... but Ja'far's arguments to stop him were gradually becoming more and more threadbare of late. Even appealing to the man's vanity had little effect though.

"You know what I mean. Would it kill you to be responsible for once?"

Sinbad laughed. "I can be responsible tomorrow. You know, if you keep frowning like that then you'll be the one looking old."

Ja'far's eyes narrowed and he resolutely kept the scowl in place. He'd be damned if he'd let himself be swayed by Sin so easily. But he could feel himself giving in, even now... why was it always so hard to make his King obey him? Again, that irritation in his chest. Well, even if he was going to lost this fight... he wasn't going to lose totally.

"Fine. Babysitting you is becoming a full time job, it seems. If you're going out, I'm coming with you."

Sinbad blinked for second and Ja'far relished that surprise he could still give him now and again.

"You... coming with me?"

Ja'far crossed his arms over his chest, fingers splaying over the wires concealed under his sleeves.

"Yes. What else am I supposed to do if you won't listen to me?"

For a second there, he actually though Sinbad was pouting at him, but then his face twisted and he burst out laughing. "You don't enjoy these things even when they're held at the palace! Why on earth would you force yourself into a situation like this?"

"Because you are my King," Ja'far said through gritted teeth. And because you're an idiot.

Sinbad rested an arm heavily on the smaller man's shoulder, a grin on his lips. "Well, I'm not going to hold back even if you are there... you should loosen up some and join me. You might even enjoy it, you know."

"I highly doubt it."

The air was sweltering hot in the close confines of the tavern. The sweat beading down Ja'far's neck and he shifted, uncomfortably in his place in the corner. His heavy clothing looked out of place here in the slums, where most people dressed lightly. But Ja'far had never liked having his skin on show; the sun burnt it too easily. He didn't like the way people's eyes in the crowd strayed upon him either, but he studiously ignored them. His gaze stayed fixed on where his King was drinking and carousing merrily with a group of serving maidens. No trouble so far thankfully but you could never tell with Sinbad.

He didn't understand the appeal of these places, even now. Perhaps it was just that he wasn't like Sinbad – the crush and life of people pressed around him like this had never held much attraction for him. He preferred to keep himself separate. He saw Sin's purple eyes meet him over the head of the girl in his lap. He stared back until he was beckoned over and then he moved slowly through the mess of people.

"Come, won't you have a drink with me, Ja'far? You look so bored over there by yourself. I've never been accused of being a bad host before – do you want to make me look bad?"

For a second, he was tempted. Would it be easier just to abandon himself like Sin did, like so many others around him? And more then that... he wondered if by finally doing as Sinbad asked in this... would it bring them closer to each other? Still, he shook his head; retreating back to his dark corner again. No, it wouldn't change anything. He was a general, not some playmate of Sin's. And as a general, he had to keep a clear head; to keep an eye on his King. That was more important than having a good time. If something happened to Sinbad when he was supposed to be watching over him... well, he would never forgive himself. Still, he didn't like the look of disappointment on Sin's face at his rebuttal or the way that his muscular arms clutched the girl to him, even tighter; fingers caressing bare flesh. He almost glanced away but then kept his eyes fixed on them as if the very force of his gaze could bore into Sinbad.

It didn't take long for Sin to get completely drunk. It never did, really although Ja'far was adept by now at realising exactly when Sinbad was really drunk and when he was faking. This time, he was really, truly inebriated, as evidenced by him passing out as soon as they got out of the door of the tavern. Ja'far had already shooed the girls away and other onlookers but now he was left with an unconscious King to deal with. He sighed in exasperation and leant down to move Sinbad's hair away from his face. The breathing was equal – he was truly out of it. Now, what was he supposed to do? He cursed Sinbad aloud, with irritation. Why does this always happen? Why does he never consider the consequences of his actions? And why, oh why, am I still following this man when he causes me nothing but trouble?

But the answer was obvious as it always had been. Sinbad was his King and in his heart of hearts, he knew that there was no better person for the job. Despite his flaws, despite his unreliability... he was his King and he would follow him forever. Still, he nudged the larger man; unimpressed. This really was completely ridiculous. But, there was no help for it. The only way Sinbad was getting back to the Palace tonight was if Ja'far carried him.

It took him a few minutes of painful exertion before he managed to adjust the taller frame on his back. Ja'far's muscles strained in protest but he only allowed a faint hiss to exit his lips at the burden. Some use he was, if he couldn't even do this. He was aware of how much an easy target they were like this; too defenceless by far. It made him uneasy, this vulnerability. He wrinkled his nose and then started to walk, steps heavy and slow. Sinbad's weight on his back was warm and loose tendrils of his hair fell forward to touch Ja'far face. It smelt of the smoke from the tavern and still held the clinging scent of the spirits he'd drunk but he didn't mind it so much. These things were all synonymous with Sinbad and he had grown used to it over time. That thought made him pause. When has he grown so familiar with his King to even recognise his smell?

There was a movement of his back and Ja'far almost collapsed as Sinbad raised his arms; curling them around Ja'far's own to rest on his chest. He managed to stay upright with the motion but only just.

"Hey, I'm not one of your girls, you know," He murmured.

"Hmm?" Sinbad's voice was sleepy and slurred. "Ja'far? I didn't know it was you... wait, are you carrying me?"

Sinbad's arms hadn't moved though and it made a strange tingling sensation pass in his chest; one that made his heart start to thud. Ja'far tried to ignore it but he was thankful for the dark that wouldn't betray the heat on his cheeks. Since when had a simple touch made him so flustered? And that of this person too?

"Yes, I'm carrying you. You're in no state to walk home unaided."

A laugh entered the night air. "Oh dear... I've become a burden for you again, haven't I, Ja'far? I'd get up but... my limbs don't seem to be obeying me right now."

They were obeying you just fine a second ago when you placed your arms around me, Ja'far thought. Perhaps he would have tried to remove those hands which pressed him too tightly, but then Sinbad would have fallen. He could put up with this much surely. Or perhaps, just perhaps... he didn't entirely mind.

"Go back to sleep, you drunken idiot," He said, after a pause. "You're not making any sense, talking about being a burden and such."

A slight movement again and then hot air brushed his ear and hair as Sinbad's lips came closer. He froze a little at the sensation but then kept walking, although even slower than before.

"You always were stronger then you looked," Sin's voice was breathy in such close proximity and Ja'far stumbled. He had never been this close to his King and the effect was almost overwhelming.

"I'm not strong, not really. I've spent half my life leaning on you."

But there was no answer but a faint snore as Sinbad returned to unconsciousness. Ja'far cursed but then allowed himself a slight smile. Well, it was just like Sinbad, wasn't it, to miss the most important things?


	3. Chapter Three

If Sinbad has a headache from his night of drinking, he doesn't show it. In fact, he's his normal, annoyingly cheerful self. It's Ja'far who has an aching head instead, causing his steps to slow as he follows the procession.

The desert is as blindingly bright as ever, the heat suffocating and Ja'far can feel his concentration slipping. He shakes himself a little – this won't do. He can't phase out now, not on an important visit to the tribe in the wastelands. Here, more than ever, he needs to keep his wits about him. The people may have an allegiance to Sindria, but it's shaky at best and the threat of treachery was always too close to the surface for his comfort.

He swipes at an irritating bead of sweat crawling down his forehead and for a second, things blue around him. Not good. Reluctantly, he falls back, indicating to Masrur, whose nearest, that he'll catch up. A few seconds, that's all he needs, surely. The heat has never got to him like this before and blearily he wonders why. Lack of sleep perhaps after having to ensure the King got to bed without incident? He cursed Sinbad but stopped as a wave of dizziness overcame him. He sank slowly to his knees and still had enough energy left to feel angry that he was so defenceless right now. The wires feel so heavy on his arms; his limbs like lead. His eyes shut and that is better for now the unbearable brightness is gone.

Then, there are noises, annoying noises and he wants to tell them to go away and leave him alone; he's quite fine here, thank you. But, even doing that seems like far too much effort. His eyes flutter and he wonders why Sinbad's face is so very close and why he insists on shaking him so, on speaking so loudly when his head hurts.

"Wake up, Ja'far. You've got heatstroke, wake up! You can't sleep here."

"I'll be fine in a minute," He murmurs.

A rough hand rests on his forehead but it's blissfully cool.

"No, you won't. Not if you insist on lying down in the sand like this. Really, I thought you were supposed to be the sensible one."

Ja'far thinks he tells the King to shut up but he's ignored so isn't sure if he just thought it instead. The last thing he knows before he passes out is Yamuraiha's voice, casting magic on him. He has never felt so utterly useless as at that moment and for once, unconsciousness is a relief to him.

He wakes to a burning throat and croaks for water. Someone hands him a tumbler and he gulps gratefully, then splutters.

"Slowly, slowly. Or you'll make yourself ill again."

Sin's voice. His eyes focus properly now and he sees it is indeed the King at his side. Ja'far himself, is lying on a makeshift bed of what he strongly suspects are Yamuraiha's castoff clothing. It still holds the faint feminine scent of her perfume, not unpleasant but a little cloying to his sun parched throat.

At least he's sheltered from the sun here and he suspects he has magic to thank for the large tent over their heads too. It's far bigger than the standard ones and they hadn't packed any either on the trip. Still, he feels horribly embarrassed and Sinbad's presence only makes it worse.

"I'm afraid I've made us late for the meeting. Why didn't you go on? You could have just left Pisti or someone with me."

Sinbad frowns, his face surprisingly solemn for once. "I wasn't going to leave you behind. My duty is to my own people, first and foremost." A pause and then he leant forward, eyebrows knit in anger. "Don't you scare me like that again, Ja'far. You could at least bother to take care of yourself as well as running after me all the time."

Ja'far sits up though the dizziness made him regret it. Dimly, he felt guilt.

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

Sinbad sighs. "You're not made for the hot climate and this is partly my fault too. I forgot and I shouldn't have. I should have left you in the palace, rather than bring you out here."

It was true in a way. Something in his genes left him unsuited for the desert climate. If he could have remembered his mother's face, he would have asked her but he suspected she would recognise him as little as he would her. Too much time had passed and didn't know if he had born in this country or elsewhere as his appearance would suggest. It was why Ja'far had to cover as much of his fair skin as possible from the sun. He's gone without when younger, wearing only the loose tunic he could move in, fight in easily. But then he'd been in the shadows all the time, striking where people least expected it, from the darkness. The heat had not bothered him as he stayed clear of it. But, it was different now he was with Sin and in the public eye. Now, he had to be seen and it had always been a feeling he'd never gotten used to. The extra clothing was there for that reason too. If possible, Ja'far would have preferred to just stay in Sinbad's shadow and do his job from there.

He's aware of how damp the fabric is against his skin now and he knows he must feel clammy to the touch; shrinks away as Sinbad feels his forehead.

"Better. But you're still too warm."

He feels the material on his head slip, hair running free. It's in a tangle and he knows what a mess in fact, he looks right now. It's humiliating to be seen in such a state. He wants clean clothes, a bath and to not feel Sin's eyes on him now. It makes him feel even more vulnerable than he already is in this situation and feeling vulnerable is something Ja'far hates.

"Easy now," Sinbad says as if to an animal, sensing his discomfort. Then he freezes a little, eyeing Ja'far with wariness. "You're still wearing your weapons, aren't you?"

"Of course," Ja'far bristled.

Sinbad shook his head and Ja'far recognised the exasperated expression on the King's face as one he normally wore himself. Is that really how I look all the time?

"You never change," Sinbad said. "I remember when I first took you in – you'd even go to bed in those dratted wires."

Ja'far remembered too. He'd been angry and afraid back then and still hadn't trusted the strange adventurer who had tried to persuade him to go with him. In fact, he's tried to kill Sin the first few times but had been rebuffed with a surprising power that didn't match his easygoing manner. He'd slept huddled in a corner, body tense and ready to attack at every movement. Even now, though he trusted Sinbad, it was still a habit of his to sleep with his weapons still wrapped around his arms.

"It never hurts to be prepared," He says, softly but he's feeling too drained to argue properly. So, he tells himself, that's why he doesn't protest too much when Sinbad removes his outer robe with dexterous hands, leaving him in only the under tunic. Really, he's glad to be rid of it; sweat and sand stained as it is. His tunic is too thin; almost transparent even, sticking against the dampness of his skin as it is. But the mere fact that it's Sinbad undressing him as if he's still a child like back then, is enough to set his nerves on edge. He flinches when Sinbad starts to pull off the wires from his arms.

"Leave them," he murmurs. It seems very important somehow that he keep them as if they're part of his very person.

"Don't be an idiot," Sinbad says. "I'm trying to help you." Then closer, so much closer to him that he can feel the man's breath on his skin. "I'm here so you don't have to worry, okay? I'm not going to let you get hurt."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Ja'far complains, face flushed. It is still too warm in here.

"Masrur and Sharrkan are outside. I am hardly unprotected. So now, for once in your life, take my advice."

Ja'far is about to retort back that he always does obey Sinbad, but he knows it's not true. So, he grits his teeth and nods bluntly, allowing the weapons to be painfully plucked away. It's uncomfortably intimate, but every time he tries to take over, Sinbad stops him. His body betrays him anyway, too weak to obey his commands and so he must endure this. All he can do is glare until every strand of the metallic wire is gone and he feels bare and naked.

"See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Sinbad smiles but his cheer is quelled by Ja'far's stony look. "Alright, alright. But you know, you could have just mentioned earlier if you were suffering. You didn't have to come."

"I did. Someone needs to keep you in line."

Sinbad laughs. "You really think I'm such a bad King, huh?"

Ja'far freezes. He isn't sure if it's the fever that makes him speak but he knows he's going to regret it later.

"You're not a bad King. You're the best King... I wouldn't follow anyone less."

Sinbad looked surprised but then pleased.

"You know, you should be ill more often. You come out with nice things."

"Oh, shut up and let me sleep. You're making my head hurt worse."

He shuts his eyes, determined to blot Sin out. There's silence and a few seconds later, he opens them again hesitantly, thinking he must finally have left.

But Sinbad is still sat there, watching him and something in that look flips his stomach. It's an almost predatory look and one that he's only seen Sinbad give to particularly beautiful concubines before. Their eyes meet and Ja'far knows Sinbad knew he recognised the look and all it entailed. His mouth opens as if he's about to say something but Ja'far turns away, so only his back is facing Sinbad now. He shuts his eyes tight and wills the King to go away, to leave. He's almost afraid of what might happen if he doesn't. Almost.

It doesn't make sense. Sinbad has never shown interest in men before and Ja'far knows he is not the best specimen either. Surely, Sharrkan or Masrur would attract Sin more if he ever felt that way persuaded. In truth, such thoughts have never entered much in his head. As an assassin, marriage would never have been an option anyway and even now, he still thinks the same. He had watched other people's flirtations, Sharrkan and Yamuraiha's bickering, Kougyoku's blushes; the way Sinbad would linger around the dancing girls at parties. He could recognise it in other people but the whole concept was somewhat alien. He loved the people around him, but he'd always kept part of himself distant; the same way he'd been taught to as a child.

An assassin has no need of a heart, that voice said, then another pointed out, But I am no longer an assassin.

When he peeks around again, Sinbad is gone. So he sleeps, hoping that whatever the strange trouble is, it will fade away with the heatstroke. Knows that it won't.


	4. Chapter Four.

When they finally reached the meeting, hours later, he'd insisted on apologising himself. The delay had been his fault after all but Sinbad wouldn't hear of it. He'd subsequently placed Ja'far at the back of room and he couldn't protest, still so weak as he was. And then Sinbad had apologised instead to the tribal leaders –explained how it was his own fault for getting distracted on the journey. He'd covered for him and Ja'far still couldn't understand why. Surely, it would be the King who would face dire repercussions from doing so? If the tribe took too great offence than the meeting would effectively be over. And the alliance with it. But, he'd underestimated Sinbad's charisma and his quick way with words – the matter was swiftly smoothed over. Ja'far still felt guilt though and knew that Sinbad had been forced to shame himself; making amends with these people. He should not have had to lower himself for my failures.

Now, back in Sindria and free from the effects of the sun stroke, he looked back on the incident with embarrassment. Of the moment, whatever it had been, in the tent he couldn't hep dwelling on too. Things were the same as ever – Sinbad getting himself into trouble and Ja'far berating him for it, but he felt a difference.

Things had been busy enough for the past few days with the departure of their guests. Aladdin had mentioned investigating Magnoshutatt, Morgiana to visit her homeland. Alibaba hadn't really said but he suspected it was something to do with his sparring lessons. Perhaps he had reached the limits of what Sharkann's teaching could give him. He'd watched the young Prince with some interest - as another King candidate it made him wonder if one day, sometime in the future, he would rise as high as Sinbad had. He showed promise for one so young. His protective instincts though warned him to keep an eye on the boy for another reason – someone with power like that might one day even prove a rival for Sinbad if left unwatched.

Yet, Sinbad seemed easygoing with him; did not share his faint misgivings he knew. When had he started to mistrust everyone around him? Though he knew the real question was: when hadn't he? Alibaba was no threat, he knew this... perhaps he was just being over-protective. Of Sinbad? The thought made him laugh. The King would get into scrapes with or without his aid.

Yes, but it's my job to try and prevent as many of them as I can.

Yet with the disruptions coming from the Kingdom of Kou lately, and from the mysterious Al Sarmen, his job was altogether more difficult. Will there be war? All the signs seemed to point towards it. Something was building out there – and Sindria was an obstacle in its way, he knew. They would surely not escape the violence for long.

"Your thoughts look heavy, Ja'far."

Why does Sinbad always, always find him at these times?

"It's nothing," He said, dipping his head back to examine the pile of parchment in front of him. He thinks Sinbad will leave now, but he doesn't; instead sits on the edge of the table. His shadow casts over the glyphs he's deciphering, blotting them out and he frowns.

"Is there something you want, Sin?" He asks through gritted teeth. Being alone like this had set his nerves on edge lately.

"Something I want?" Sinbad mused, face perplexed and then he brightens. "Oh, I could think of a few things but at the moment... I'd rather like you to put away those trade disputes and talk to me."

Ja'far raised an eyebrow. "You insist on picking the only person in the entire palace who is actually busy, to talk to?"

Sinbad grins.

"You know, you used to care a lot less about all this." He gestured to the laden desk.

"If you hadn't noticed, Sinbad – we are trying to run a country here and-"

"Yes, yes I know. You've told me enough times. I am well aware of how much work you really do, Ja'far. But you know, it doesn't have to be you – I can find someone else."

Ja'far made a sound of discontent in the back of his throat.

"Sure, you could. And not one of those people could put up with your crap. Not one of those people could do half so well a job."

"Modest, I see," Sinbad said and then leaned forward, deliberately covering the parchment with a tanned hand. "But, you are right, I suppose. Most important of all though... there's no one else I trust well enough to do the job."

Ja'far made a face at the sentimentality. "Have you been drinking? It's far too early in the day for that..."

Sinbad ignored the question, meeting Ja'far eye with a surprisingly serious stare. This close, he couldn't discern the strong smell of alcohol on his breath.

"Do you know why I trust you so much?" He asked.

Ja'far almost retorted with something sarcastic but it's so unusual to see Sinbad in one of these moods that he gives in and shakes his head instead.

"No, I don't."

There's a long pause and Sinbad's eyes seem to be far away, reminiscing some long, forgotten time.

"You remember how we met, don't you? You had a lot of pluck for such a scrawny kid – and to go against me even back then I had just started to get a name for myself."

"Yeah, well... I was young and hungry. You looked like you were right so I thought I could make money from you, enough to buy food. Of course, you didn't – you'd been robbed the previous day so it was a total waste of effort."

"You almost did kill me, you know," Sinbad said softly and Ja'far's memories came back to him. It hadn't been those first attacks when they'd first met, but the one later that night after Sinbad had insisted Ja'far stay with him; had even annoyingly followed him until he gave in, lulled more by the offer of fire and food. Ja'far had waited until the youth was asleep, snoring loudly and then he had made his move. Sinbad woke as soon as Ja'far landed on his chest, legs straddling him and the razor sharp wires held to his throat. In the dim light from the moon, Ja'far's eyes had looked somewhat reptilian. Sinbad blinked and didn't move; didn't even say anything. Wasn't this always when they would scream, plead for their lives? He just watched Ja'far and waited. The boy meanwhile had froze, wires inches away from meeting their bloody destination. Why had he stopped? He still wasn't sure, even now. Perhaps it was because Sinbad didn't look afraid or the food he'd been given, tasting tentatively in case of poison. Whatever it was, Ja'far drew back his hands and the wires with them and slowly stood up, backing away, his breath coming in violent pants. And Sinbad had simply turned over and gone back to sleep, leaving the confused boy to eventually do the same. He hadn't tried to kill him again after that as if they had reached some unspoken agreement.

"I thought you were going to cry; the look on your face back then. You seemed so... damaged. And so very alone. You would have killed me then, very easily I might add, though it hurts my pride to admit it. The great Dungeon Capturer killed by a kid when sleeping – that would have been a rather undistinguished end to my legend!"

"But, I didn't," Ja'far said. He'd forgotten the work entirely now; allowed himself to be drawn back into the past, just as Sinbad was. It seemed centuries ago now – part of him didn't even know who that child was anymore; that assassin who had murdered so many for what now seemed so very little. But there were days, dark days and now more often now in these dark times, that he understood all too well.

"Why, in all of Sindria, do you trust me because of that?" He asked.

"Because you didn't kill me. You had that choice, my life in your fingertips and you didn't take it from me. And then I knew I could trust you."

Ja'far almost laughed. "That's a stupid reason. What if it had all been a spur of the moment decision, and I just didn't feel like it that night?"

"I'm still here, aren't I? If you'd wanted me gone, you'd have made it happen. So, I don't think it's a stupid reason at all, actually. In fact, I wanted to thank you for it – for giving me such a loyal adviser."

Ja'far frowned. "It's not like you to get all nostalgic, Sin. Tell me, what is this really about?"

Sinbad smiled. "Ah, so you found me out then? I guess subtlety was never really my strong point. But you asked me earlier, what it was I wanted and I've only just realised what so recently. Something I've wanted to quite a while now."

"More bodyguards to ensure teenage brats can't assassinate you in your bed?" Ja'far quipped but it was a weak one and he knew it. He didn't like the way this conversation was going and his throat felt suddenly dry.

"Don't pretend ignorance now. I want you, Ja'far. In every sense of the word."

Ja'far's assumed smile shook; went uneven.

"I – Why are you telling me this now? I've been with you years – years, Sinbad. Why are you suddenly so interested? Or are the girls simply not enough for you now? Are -?" He broke off, not sure where this anger had come from. Had he always felt like this? What he felt towards Sinbad was not simple, he knew.

Sinbad looked shocked as if this wasn't the reaction he had been expecting.

"I don't know how it happened. But... the other day out there in the desert... for a second there when you collapsed, I thought I was going to lose you. It was a... wake up call of sorts. I know that I need you, Ja'far and I don't want to think of how I'd manage without you."

Ja'far's eye's blazed. "Oh, you'd manage just fine. You managed before you met me, didn't you? I just happen to be convenient for you –"

Sinbad stopped him, hands cradling his face. "You are not just convenient for me, Ja'far."

He leant down and kissed him, lips heated and searching and for a second, Ja'far was pulled in by the sheer force of it. He can feel Sinbad's fingers pressing roughly into the skin of his cheeks, too close for comfort and almost giving into it, he panicked. Pushing himself away, he released the wires from his arms, sending the King crashing in an ungraceful heap to the floor. His face paled. Had he just attacked Sinbad? Over something so stupid as a simple kiss?

He withdrew the wires quickly but still felt the faint burnings of anger. After all, hadn't it been Sinbad who had attacked him first, in a manner of speaking. It was only natural that his former training had instinctively kicked in. Still though, as he saw the look of confusion and worse – the hurt – on Sinbad's face, he knew he shouldn't have done it.

"Where's your trust now?" He found himself asking aloud, voice faint and then he left the room; practically ran from it.

Why am I running? I should go back – apologise. It was a... misunderstanding. What does it matter if he fancies himself enamoured with me? It will pass as his passions often do.

And then a smaller voice, the one that kept his feet moving forward:

It matters. It matters because only one person in my whole life has ever meant something to me. And I do not want him to discard me as he will do when he loses interest. Ad he does with all the girls. I do not want to be just one of them.

"Why, Sinbad?" He murmured. "Why couldn't you have just kept things as they were?"


	5. Chapter Five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Because adding Judal into anything always makes things more fun...)

It's impossible to ignore Sinbad, not with the job he does, but Ja'far tries anyway. He stays to the back of meetings; speaks little. He most certainly does not make eye contact with Sin, despite the amount of times the King tries. When at last, Sin catches him alone after a briefing, he shakes off the man's touch.

"Look, I'm sorry for what happened," Sin said although he doesn't look a bit apologetic, face pained.

Ja'far blinked; expression schooled perfectly so he shows no sign of being anything other than calm.

"Nothing happened," He said, voice a monotone. He almost winces at how cold it sounds. "I... You weren't hurt, were you?"

Sinbad rubs an arm in a rueful manner. "My pride more than anything. Still if you had truly wished to hurt me, I'd have had more than bruises."

Ja'far nods but doesn't comment further. To him, at least, the subject is closed. As far as possible, he'll distance himself from Sinbad until the attraction faded as it undoubtedly would. Run away, he may have done back then, but he didn't intend to leave Sinbad for good. This was his home after all, the only place he belonged. If he left, he would have nowhere else to go.

Still, from the looks of distress Sinbad gave him every so often, he sensed this wasn't over yet. There was another change to the King too - he paid more attention to matters of state; didn't disappear so often. Ja'far would have been relieved at this if he didn't suspect it was partly for his own benefit. Does he expect me to praise him for doing his job? Vaguely, he wondered how long it would be before his new-found motivation fled and Sin would be distracted by something else. A new dancing girl, perhaps. He felt a small stab of disapproval in his chest at the thought. But, then wasn't it for the best really, if Sin transferred to someone else?

"An ambassador from the Kou Empire wishes to see you, Sinbad," Masrur announced in one of his few bouts of speech. He didn't look happy by the news either and when the ambassador was show into the courtyard he knew the cause instantly. It was Judal.

"Hey long time, no see Sinbad," He smirked and Ja'far felt as if something had crawled under his skin. Why him, of all people? It was practically an insult for the Kou to send the anarchic magi to negotiate with Sindria. And perhaps, he reflected, it was supposed to be.

Judal stalked in as if he owned the place and Sinbad looked up from the map he'd been inspecting. He'd looked bored before but now at the intruder's entrance seemed to perk up a little.

"Judal," He said. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

His shoulders were tense but otherwise at least, he affected calmness.

"Oh, you know. My King wants your Kingdom. But first, we have to pretend to be civilised and talk about it first."

"And he sent you for that, did he?" Ja'far asked, one eyebrow arched. After all, Judal would only agitate a situation more than smooth it over.

Judal blinked at him. The look on his face was not pleasant. "Oh, still here, Ja'far? I'd have thought Sin would have got bored of you by now. Call of your pet dogs, won't you, Sin? I'd rather talk alone."

There was a faint enticement to the magi's voice that Ja'far didn't like and he frowned. Like hell was he leaving his King undefended with that... that monster. Sinbad merely nodded though.

"Masrur, please leave. Ja'far stays though."

Judal laughed openly, eyes slightly narrowed. "What's the matter? Don't you trust me?"

Sinbad remained unmoved from the goading. "When two countries are on the brink of war, I find that trust has long since become a forgotten entity. As it is, I would prefer to have my chief general with me."

Judal leaned in then, face fierce. "Don't think you can take me if I attack you, huh? Need your pet assassin to guard your back?"

"I am not his pet," Ja'far growled.

"I wasn't talking to you," Judal said, in an offhand manner.

Ja'far felt for the wires on his arms, body tense. Sinbad intervened hastily.

"Ja'far, relax. He's not going to attack me, are you Judal?"

His gaze flicked back to the magi, who grinned than raised his arms to show the lack of weapons there.

"Just a little joke, Sin. I came to chat after all."

"Besides," Sinbad said, his own smile deadly. "I think we both know that I am more than a match for you if the need arises."

"Don't flatter yourself," Judal sneered, but his movements are cautious.

He's bluffing, Ja'far realises. He might want to but he can't take on Sinbad right now. Still, he didn't move his fingers from the coils of wire as they talk.

Surprisingly, his jeering and jokes aside, Judal really does seem to want to talk business. He outlines Kouen's demands, most of them extortionate.

"Impossible," Sinbad stated. "I am not handing him over most of Sindria and the treasury for the privilege of still keeping a crown on my head. There may as well be war."

Judal seems to ponder for a second, unperturbed.

"Is that so? You prefer war then? Knowing that such a move would devastate your country and harm your people. A war will mean the end of Sindria."

Sinbad looks pained at that – the loss of life is too great, he knows. "Are you so very sure we'll lose? You forget, we have Aladdin."

Judal doesn't know that he's left the country then, Ja'far thinks.

"That useless midget?" Judal scoffed. "I could beat him with my eyes closed. In fact, I'd quite like to."

"You didn't seem to fare so well last time, if I remember rightly," Ja'far interjects.

Judal casts him a look of annoyance. "That djinn of his is no more now. Aladdin is nothing next to me and you both know it."

"Why do you choose to side with them, Judal?" Sinbad asks and there's real confusion in his voice now. "The Kou empire are nothing to you. You would always be welcome here, you know."

Ja'far is horrified by the offer, but not surprised by it. The two have history he knows and because of that Sinbad is inclined to be lenient. But to him, the very idea of trusting Judal seems disastrous.

"It's so tempting," Judal said, making a show as if he were really thinking it over. "But I'll pass. It's just no fun here, Sinbad. You can't tell me you seriously enjoy it here, ruling this pathetic Kingdom? Wouldn't you prefer to be out in the real world again, conquering dungeons? Now, that – that is a partnership I could agree to."

For a moment, Ja'far is worried Sinbad will agree, from the look on his face. There's distinct yearning there as if the idea of abandoning his country holds a certain charm to him. Then he blinks and smiles in a tired but good natured way.

"The time for that is past now, Judal. Sooner or later we have to grow up. I made my choice long ago – and my choice is Sindria. I won't give it up for now for nostalgia's sake."

Judal purses his lips slightly and makes a face. "You're getting so boring, Sinbad."

Then, he leans close again; perching on the table so his muscled chest is almost touching the King. Ja'far breathes in slightly, anger burning in his chest. Sinbad doesn't move closer, but then, he doesn't move away either. He allows Judal's hand to drift closer and lift a strand of his loosened hair.

"If you don't take care, I'll lose interest in you all together," Judal murmurs and the look in his eyes is heated, deliberately intimate.

Ja'far can stand it no longer – he wants to punch Judal's stupid face, tear him apart for even daring to touch Sinbad – but he settles for the wires. He moves swiftly, one sharpened edge pressed to the strip of the magi's throat left exposed.

"Get away from him," Ja'far hisses, his pupils narrowing down to slits. Judal shudders and slowly, languidly he drops the strand of Sinbad's hair and moves away. There's something lazy about the way he moves as if he's only doing this because he wants to, not under threat. If Ja'far didn't know that a war would be caused from doing so, he'd have slit Judal's throat there and then. The thought frightens him briefly – has he returned so easily to those killing instincts of long ago?

He doesn't look at Sinbad; doesn't want to see whatever is there on his face. The very thought that Sinbad should want Judal in the very way that Judal's heated haze had suggested rankled him. He couldn't stand to see it. Sure, a serving girl instead – anyone else. He could deal with that. But Judal? The very idea was offensive to him, left a bitter taste in his mouth. When he manages to speak, it's through gritted teeth.

"The meeting cannot progress if the ambassador insists on speaking of other... matters."

Judal shoots him an amused glance and Ja'far knows he's sensed the jealousy. Knowing Judal, that could prove to be a dangerous thing.

Sinbad sighs. "It doesn't seem like we're progressing much at all. I suggest we take a break and discuss again tomorrow, Judal. I suppose I can trust you to behave yourself if I offer you the courtesy of my hospitality?"

"Oh, I always behave," Judal said, a glint of mischief to his eyes. "Kouen is not expecting me back for a few days yet, anyway as it happens."

Ja'far doesn't like the idea of Judal staying here in the palace but knows there is little he can do about it. The negotiations are more important than his own personal dislike of the magi. At least here, he can keep an eye on him.

"Ja'far, I can trust you to escort Judal to his guest room, can't I?" Sinbad said and Ja'far catches the note of warning there.

"Of course," He said grumpily. "I apologise for my earlier... outburst." He says it to Sinbad, not Judal and dared to a quick glance at the King from the corner of his eye. The expression there was unreadable – half amused, half serious. He nods at him and then turns on his heel, trusting that the magi will follow.

Annoyingly, Judal doesn't stay quiet either and walks too close, invading his personal space. He suspects it's on purpose and lengthens his own strides.

"Little tense, aren't you?" Judal says and Ja'far glares at him; doesn't reply. There is no point in talking with Judal, it will only make him more angry. Judal watches him closely and he twitches, uncomfortable under the crimson eyes.

"Well, well... something happened since I was here last, hm? You're never usually so volatile, little Assassin."

"Don't talk," Ja'far advises him, voice dangerous but of course, Judal doesn't listen. When did he ever? He had always loved to torment Ja'far, every chance he got.

"Now, don't be like that. I can see you're getting all hot and bothered around the King-"

"It's not like that," Ja'far says, quickly. Too fast – Judal blinks then smiles maliciously. He knows for sure there's something wrong now.

"Oh, isn't it?" He murmurs, voice honeyed and smooth. "So, you didn't almost take off my head for simply touching Sinbad then? I never pegged you for the jealous type... but that really is most amusing."

They reached the room now finally and Ja'far pushed open the door gratefully and motioned the magi inside. It's one of the better rooms as befits Judal's rank; wide open walls and a perfumed pool makes the place even smell luxurious. He turns to go, thinking it will be an end to it, but Judal is blocking his exit. He's taller than Ja'far, not by much but tall enough to look menacing in this proximity and he takes a step back, despite himself. Judal follows, too close to him and Ja'far finds seeing so much of the man's tanned skin on show irritating. Can't he at least cover up?

Judal raised a hand, catching Ja'far chin in his slim fingers.

"Say, I meant what I said when I call you his pet, you know. That's how he sees you – as a toy. Tell me, has he played with you yet, Ja'far?"

Ja'far eye's flash and he pulls away violently, but his cheeks have already reddened. He cursed the pale skin that made it so obvious. And he's disgusted – disgusted at Judal's blatant question. Judal laughed and seemed satisfied with the reaction.

"I thought so. You're far too bland and uptight for him. I'm surprised he's not thrown you away yet."

"He wouldn't do that," Ja'far said and it's the child in him talking. He hates that, hates how Judal has sneaked right down to his insecurities. "I've been with him years. He wouldn't-"

"Oh, wouldn't he?" Judal's fingers trace over Ja'far lips and the general backs away at the touch.

"Just so you know... I think of Sinbad as my toy. Which of us, do you think, would hold his interest more, hm?"

Ja'far watches horrified as Judal starts to laugh and he escapes, the laughter still resounding in his ears.


	6. Chapter Six.

It was with listless movements that Ja'far found himself walking to Sinbad's quarters/ Why he was going there he wasn't sure, but Judal's words had been playing over and over in his mind. He'd needed to do something to shut them off and burying himself in work for the past few hours had been excruciating.

He'd given up in the end and spent dinner with Pisti, whose constant chatter had been a relief – it was a distraction of sorts. He hadn't seen Judal since he'd left him in the guest room and didn't want to. After a while, even she seemed to notice his silence though and she widened her eyes at him.

"Are you and big brother Sin arguing?" She asked. He'd started at the question. Since when had Pisti been so perceptive?

"No, of course not," He said grumpily. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

She frowned, and there was such knowing in her eyes then that Ja'far is afraid she's seen more than he would have thought.

"It's nothing really. But you're both acting different. I thought for sure that he'd made you angry again somehow."

Ja'far made an effort to smile; anything to reassure her, but even he was aware of how badly his attempt faltered.

"Everything is the same as ever, Pisti," He lied.

Luckily, she seemed content with his excuse and he'd left soon after. The sky was darkening outside as his steps drew near Sinbad's room. He paused for a few seconds outside the door, hesitating. Maybe Sin wouldn't even be here. He was so often out somewhere drinking of an evening, although he hadn't done so as much of late.

I'm making excuses again, he realised and wit that he resolutely knocked on the door. Regretted doing so almost instantly.

"Come in," Sinbad's voice called and with it any chance of him avoiding this any further. So, he pushed open the door, finding Sinbad sprawled as with his manner on one of the luxuriant couches in his room. Seeing him, Sinbad put down the glass of amber liquid he'd been holding.

"Ja'far," He said, surprise obvious on his face. "I wasn't... something the matter?"

He tried to speak, to express some of the turmoil roiling around in his head. Sinbad, seeing his confused look, shifted over to make room.

"Sit down, Ja'far. You look upset about something."

"Upset? Is that how I seem?" He asked softly. He gratefully collapsed onto the plush seat though. Being here with Sinbad seemed to soothe his nerves a little, but then others became more sensitive instead – the smell of Sinbad's wine clinging to the humid air, the folds of his robe loose over his skin. He has a physical urge to pull back the fabric; catch the man's larger hands in his own. He resists it.

"Ja'far?" Sinbad prompts, looking closely into the freckled face. "Look, is it war? We'll solve it somehow, you know. You don't have to fret."

Ja'far shook his head. Sinbad seemed to think for a few seconds, worry etched in the lines of his face.

"Did Judal's behaviour earlier affect you so much? He was only doing it on purpose, you know – he lives to annoy people. I wouldn't have thought you, of all people, would have risen to it."

Here is something finally he can reply to.

"You shouldn't trust him so much," He said. "He's trouble and... he's dangerous."

Sinbad sighs, brushing a hand through his long hair.

"I know that. Dammit, Ja'far I know. But, I don't believe that Judal is a bad as he likes to pretend he is."

Pretends? Don't make me laugh.

"All he cares about is war and destruction," Ja'far said.

"I remember a time when I met a young boy who thought very similar," Sinbad mused, his purple gaze penetrating. Ja'far shifted, uncomfortable.

"I was never so bad as that," He protested.

"Oh, you were quite the problem child. It's hard to believe sometimes when I look at you now."

Ja'far examined him closely; caught his gaze. "Judal isn't just another stray for you to take in, Sin. Must you take charity on everyone? Some people are just... too far gone."

Perhaps it's partly selfishness, the way he says this, but in his heart he knows it's also the truth. Judal is just the type of person to take advantage of the King's pity and then turn on him afterwards. He doesn't want to see that happen, feels it like an ache in his bones. He doesn't, no – he can't – understand why Sinbad insists on putting his trust in the magi.

"Perhaps, Ja'far. But let me try, anyway? I do not like to give up on people."

He doesn't try to argue again - knows it's useless. When Sinbad has his mind set on something, there is little point trying to dissuade him. Even if the idea of redeeming Judal is foolhardy.

"Here, drink something," Sinbad said, proffering the glass to him. He hesitated, then took it with a sigh; gulped some down with a grimace at the sweet taste. "Better?" Sinbad asked him, taking back the glass.

Ja'far pulled a face. "I don't know how you can drink that stuff."

"It's an acquired taste," Sinbad laughs.

Then, his face freezes a little, his face distant. "Perhaps it's best if you leave now, Ja'far. If there is nothing else you wish to speak of."

Ja'far sensed a sudden coolness from him and he blinked. What was going on?

"I -" He started, then stumbled to a halt again. Sinbad looked back at him, a faint smile touching his lips. It didn't happy though; never quite reaching his eyes.

"I'm not trying to be mean. But having you right there is too much for me right now. I know how much I disgust you, so I'm telling you to leave for your own safety. I don't want you to get any more angry at me because I find you too cute not to control myself around you."

Oh. That... was not what he'd expected.

"I thought... I thought you had lost interest in me already. With Judal here –"

Sinbad looked at him as if he were insane then groaned, putting his head in his hands. "Don't make that face. I'll want to eat you up right here and now. You should know that I meant what I said – that I want you. It isn't going to change anytime soon so you're best off keeping your distance –"

"What if I don't want to?" Ja'far interrupted.

Sinbad looked up from beneath his palms, dark eyes alert. "What are you saying?"

"What if I don't want to stay away from you anymore? I... I tried, I really did. Because I know you'll hurt me when you find someone new... I get too emotionally attached, I know – "

"Wait, wait, hold up a second," Sinbad said and he was closer now, achingly close but still not touching. "When did I ever say that I would move onto someone else after? Do you have any idea how often I've said these words to a person? While I was sober too, I might add. And to one of my own generals – have you ever even seen me touch one of them before? Well, asking Yamuraiha on a date the first day doesn't really count. Just remembering the bruises she gave me makes me wince even now..."

Ja'far struggled to take in what Sinbad was saying. Could that... really be true? That Sinbad hadn't just been looking for casual sex which he'd then forget about it? That he...

"So... I don't disgust you?" Sinbad asked and he looked so happy Ja'far couldn't help but smile a little too; it was infectious.

"You caught me off guard the other day, I'll admit. But... I suppose I am not completely adverse to the idea." He said slowly.

He thought he would be blinded by how much Sinbad beamed at him. Dammit, he's too attractive when he smiles.

Sin leaned in closer; rested one hand on Ja'far's arm. "So, you won't attack me again if I kiss you now?" He murmured.

"I suppose not," Ja'far breathed and then Sinbad's lips were on his own, achingly hot. His mouth was filled with the saccharine flavour of the alcohol Sin had drunk and something darker; more heavy which he assumes was Sin's very own unique taste. It made him heady, almost dizzy and he struggled for air as Sinbad kissed deeper, his whole body pressed against him now.

When he finally broke away, he was well aware of how red and flustered looking he is but Sinbad didn't seem to mind.

"It's no good," He said, voice full of mischief. "I'm not letting you out of this room tonight."

His breath caught for a second at the words. This was... this was too fast, surely? But when Sin kisses him again, his warm hands messing up his hair; tracing lines down his body, he knew he didn't want to go. Still, this whole thing was a little scary. Sinbad is the person he knows best, has done for years. Hell, he's seen him naked before, on those mornings when Ja'far had to literally pull him out of bed. He'd tried to avert his eyes but had never been quick enough. So, he knows exactly what to expect from Sin's body, knows it's more powerfully built than his own. Still, the idea of doing this is distinctly out of his comfort zone – even with the one person he feels most comfortable with. Sinbad seemed to feel the tension in his body and he pulled away.

"Hey, if you don't want to... I'll hold back. But tell me quickly, before I get to into this."

There it is: the choice. But who is he kidding? He always has given into Sin's demands too easily. He bit his lip, still able to taste Sin there.

"No. I don't want you to stop. Just... don't be too rough, okay?"

Sinbad laughed at that. "I won't break you, I promise."

Then Ja'far feels himself being lifted – so easily in Sin's arms that he almost gasps. He's laid down on something soft. Oh, the bed. Sin's bed. He's seen it many times before but here in this new angle, it's uncomfortably intimate. I wonder how many other people he's had here, he thought hazily. The thought was quickly washed away though as Sinbad's surprisingly deft fingers loosened the sash on his robe. Part of him felt like he should be protesting about that, but as Sinbad's hands finally seek their way past his clothing to skin beneath, he doesn't want to put up a fight. His body burns, leaving hot trails as they track over his chest. It's not enough – he wants to feel Sin's skin too; to feel the muscles of his chest against his own.

"Your clothes too," He breathes. "It's not fair if it's... just me."

"I could look at you like this all night," Sinbad murmurs, close enough to his ear to make him shiver. But he does remove his clothing, faster than Ja'far would have thought possible. He swallowed, seeing him like this; so close to him. Even having seen it all before doesn't lessen the impact, not really, and he can feel his face heating again. It takes all his willpower not to look away, embarrassed as he is. Sinbad smiles at the look on his face.

"You like what you see?" He leaned down, full length of his body pressed against Ja'far's – and yes, there's no mistaking how aroused Sin is now.

"I... could get used to this," Ja'far allows, though he feels more light headed by the minute. Sinbad laughs and contents himself with pulling away the rest of Ja'far's robe. The wires too – he's forgotten he'd even been wearing them.

"As attractive as they are on you, I don't fancy bringing weapons into the bed," Sinbad said. Ja'far is naked now from the waist up and even then, there's only one layer of fabric now to hide what's left of him. Thin fabric too and he can feel almost everything through it; the way Sin's body moved deliciously slow over his own. Sin's fingers play over his bare chest and he squirms a little under the heated touch. He's not used to this feeling; the surprising sensitivity of it. Sin's not gentle, not at all despite his promise and Ja'far knows he'll have marks on his hips and ribs tomorrow; he's being gripped so tight. The pain doesn't really phase him much though. And when Sin's hot mouth nibbles his neck, his collar bone – when it moves further down to bring the pink rushing to his nipples – he can't help but arch a little, a moan rising from his lips.

"You're sensitive there, huh?" Sinbad smiles, pinching hard enough so that Ja'far's body rises again, pressing closer to Sin's own. It's an ache he feels, to be yet closer but whatever Sin is doing to him now, he doesn't seem to have much control over his limbs anymore.

"Sin, please," He keened raggedly. He isn't sure exactly what it is he's asking for – more or less?

"God," Sinbad said. "You're so beautiful."

That makes Ja'far look up, not even bothering to hide his disbelief. "No, I'm not. I'm... I'm nothing like that."

He doesn't understand why Sinbad said it, unless it's to make him feel better. If so, he'd rather he wouldn't. He's studied himself enough to know though, that his pasty white skin and skinny frame are far from ideal. The scars just seem to make it worse. He has never felt beautiful, even though Sin's eyes are achingly earnest as he repeats it again. How can Ja'far explain? That next to Sinbad, what else can he feel but hopelessly inadequate?

But Sinbad is shushing him now, plastering small kisses on his face – and his hands are moving down, close enough to cup him through the fabric. His eyes meet Sin's above them and the King's lips move as if to silently ask for permission and –

The door slams open and Ja'far flinches, pulling away from Sinbad in his panic. The effect is instant, like he'd just been submerged into a bucket of cold water. He reaches for the blankets, his clothes – anything to cover his all too naked skin but they're nowhere in reach, thrown aside in their passion. Sinbad doesn't move, though the look he gives the intruder is distinctly cold and hostile. Ja'far gaze turns back to the door and he already seems to know who it is before he sees the familiar dark figure.

"You did want to see me tonight, didn't you Sin?" Judal said silkily, his eyes taking in the scene with obvious delight.

Ja'far felt that invasive gaze on him and he shuffled away from Sin, to the corner of the bed. He looked from Judal to Sinbad and back again and then... he begins to suspect.

"Judal," Sinbad growled. "As you can plainly see, now is not the time."

Judal took no notice, stalking further into the room. He smiled hungrily at Sinbad and his state of undress, a look that doesn't settle the uneasy feeling in Ja'far.

"Well... the little assassin isn't so frigid after all, huh? I must say though... this look is a definite improvement for him."

How had he got so close already? Judal's hand reached out, searchingly and Ja'far shivered in disgust as he felt a finger move up his chest; pinch slightly on the dusky pink of his nipple. Ja'far slaps away the touch, furiously. It's all together too personal, vulnerable as he feels right now. If he only had his weapons right now...

"Don't. Touch. Me," He snarled.

Judal laughed and turned back to Sinbad. "Oh, Sin, he doesn't play nice, does he? I can't believe this is the first time you've tasted him though –"

"Judal." Sinbad's voice is soft and dark, fringed with danger. "Get out. You're making him uncomfortable."

Judal placed hands on his exposed hips, stance wide as if to show he wasn't going anywhere. Ja'far felt dizzy, a faint sickness rising in his stomach – he wants to move, to escape this room but his limbs are too weak still. Damn Sinbad and his touch.

"I'm not the one who forgot he already had an appointment," Judal said. "I do hope you didn't wear yourself out before it was my turn." He cast a dismissive look over Ja'far. "Then again, I don't think that could be possible."

Ja'far started at that, face reddening in anger. His rage is aimed more at Sinbad though, than the magi.

"You invited him here? To your room?"

He sees it alright, how clear it is and how damned stupid he's been. The casual touches Judal gave the King, Sinbad's reluctance to push him away. And he remembers – wasn't Sin surprised to see him when he came in earlier? As if he had been expecting someone else - not Ja'far. The look on his face changes to hurt and Sinbad blanches, seeing it.

"No, it's not what you think, Ja'far. It's not. I swear it. I called Judal here to carry on the negotiations from earlier – we both agreed that perhaps it would have been best to do without you after... how difficult it was before."

Judal smirked and rested his arms casually around Sin's bare shoulders.

"You don't have to pretend, Sin. This time of night, I'm really not in the mood to talk business anyway."

Sin shook him off. "You know that wasn't on my mind, Judal."

Ja'far is shaking though, from the moment Judal touched him, face pale.

"No, you don't have to pretend anymore," He said softly. "If you want Judal so badly, you should just take him – he's clearly not making any protests. And I... You've made a fool out of me. I thought-"

He can't finish the words, choking themselves in his throat.

I thought you cared, you bastard.

"Ja'far, stop this. I'm not trying to trick you. This was just... bad timing, nothing more. I didn't call Judal for some kind of clandestine encounter."

But Ja'far has found the strength now in his anger to get up, weaving clumsily off the bed and gathering the discarded pile of his clothes tight to his chest. The look on Sinbad's face is desperate, makes him almost want to reconsider and listen to whatever lie he has to say. It hurts. Judal's face shows he is clearly enjoying the conflict.

"Ja'far, will you just listen to me!"

The King is trying to get up now; to follow him but Judal clings onto him, revelling in the naked skin beneath his fingers. Ja'far watched them for a second, despite how much the sight hurt him. Burnt it into his memory anyway. They look good together, he admitted to himself. Made for each other. And he notices that despite the interruption, Sinbad's heated state has not lessened much, painfully obvious now in his state of undress. He's sure it hasn't escaped Judal either.

His eyes narrowed. "Finish him off, why don't you Magi? He's clearly aching for it. After all, like you said: he's your toy, isn't he?"

With that, he turned on his heel and left, ignoring Sinbad's calls after him; the way he pushed Judal away violently. Judal's laughter is louder anyway and he walked faster to escape it.

He doesn't understand why Sinbad even tried to deny it when it was all so damn obvious. After all, no sane person would pick Ja'far – not pale, scrawny Ja'far over Judal and his fierce beauty. It was ridiculous that he had even believed it could be so in the first place.

Back in his own room, he barred the door shut in case Sin tried to follow him. Though somehow, he didn't think he would. His dreams were troubled that night, disturbing memories from the past that he thought he'd managed to forget. At one point when he wakes up drenched in sweat, he thinks he can still hear the cloying ring of Judal's laughter. He only just makes it to the stone basin in time before he threw up. He ran a clammy hand through his damp hair afterwards, examined his face in the mirror. He's ashamed of himself; for falling so easily into the trap of Sinbad's arms. No more of that, he tells himself. He's done with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I get the feeling I messed up on some tenses here but I'm too tired to sort them right now. Oh… and I apologise for the cliffhanger of an ending. I'll try and get the next part up soon - it's almost done!)


	7. Chapter Seven.

He still feels a little ill the next morning as he examines the marks on his body in the looking glass. He was right – there are bruises, standing out starkly from the paleness of his hip bones and higher up. He scowls and quickly covers himself in his normal robes. There, invisible again. No clues as to what had happened and if he can keep a hold on the sombre expression on his face; no visible sign there either. It never happened, he told himself sternly. Even the finger marks will fade in a day or two.

He's sorting the inventory with Yamuraiha when Sin enters, Judal following close behind. He looked up panicked and the mage frowned at him. Once she saw it was the King though, she put the list of items aside. No, I don't want to see them again yet, Ja'far thinks, his thoughts white hot with anger or pain, he isn't really sure which. Both, perhaps.

"Morning," Sinbad said with a nod, but his face is severe for once, serious. "Yamu, can you do that somewhere else? I need a word with Ja'far here."

It's not a question and she knows it; gathering up her things quickly. She shot Ja'far a questioning look, though as she moved.

"Sin, the inventory list is important so I'd rather talk later," Ja'far said softly. He began to move to leave too but Sinbad stopped him with a dark look.

"Stay. This can't wait."

Ja'far watched Yamuraiha flee with yearning, then sighed. It was too early in the morning for this. He guards his expression, body tense and waits. It slips a little though when Sinbad pushed Judal forward, roughly.

"Go on. Tell him."

Judal looked uncomfortable, something that didn't match well with his normally confident demeanour. His red eyes nervously tracked the room. What in all of Sindria is he upset about?

When he speaks finally, his tone is mocking but doesn't quite hold the usual sharp edge to it.

"So, it turns out your King is just as frigid as you are. Wouldn't even let me touch him after you left. Such a waste, really. We could have had a lot of fun, Sin."

"Doubtless," Sinbad said through gritted teeth. "As you've heard him yourself now, will you believe me now, Ja'far?"

"It... really was just a business meeting then?" Ja'far asked, voice soft. He still didn't quite believe this, although the way Judal was asking didn't suggest a lie.

"Yes," Sinbad said and there was a worried note of pleading in his tone.

Judal crossed his arms over the muscles of his chest, a frown touching his lips. "Believe me, I've no idea why this idiot seems to think you're so important, either. I'm actually a little offended by the rejection."

Ja'far's mind is working furiously, trying to sort out his mixed feelings. But when his eyes meet Sin's and he sees the desperation there; he knows that he still trusts him. Too many years spent together had taught him that much.

"Alright," He said, grudgingly. "I... I misjudged you again, Sin and for that I'm sorry."

"I suppose with my track record, I can't blame you."

Ja'far took an uncertain step forward; felt the tension start to dissolve out his body as he did so. He can't resist one last warning though, just for all the trouble Sin's caused him in the last few days. "Still, if you ever give me cause to worry again like that, I'll string you up from the ceiling. Got it?"

Despite the threat, Sinbad's face split into a grin. "Noted."

There's sudden noise outside and all three look to the sound.

"What can it be now?" Sin asked, irritated.

The answer was provided fast enough though when the door crashed open to reveal a familiar figure, with burning red hair; flanked by a stressed looking Sharkann.

"Princess Kougyoku," Sin exclaimed. "I... was not expecting you."

She wore a grumpy expression on her delicate face, though it softened somewhat when she looked at the King.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, Sinbad. I came to bring Judal back with me." She glared at the magi, though on her face it looked more funny than threatening. "You haven't been causing trouble again, Judal?"

Judal grinned. "Of course not! What do you take me for?"

She grabbed onto his arm, pinching and he complained at the treatment, loudly. He didn't push her away though, Ja'far noticed with a smile. And he was more than strong enough to be able to. So, there really is someone he cares about. That is a surprise.

"Forgive me, Princess but I was under the impression that Judal was here to negotiate terms with your country."

She stopped tormenting the magi then, face falling.

"I... I'm sorry, Sinbad. Kouen, he... he called them off. He doesn't seem to think there's any need for negotiation anymore."

The apology is real in her eyes and Ja'far can see what a difficult position she's in. She liked Sinbad after all, more than liked him – but then, the Kou were her family.

"I... I wish it didn't have to be like this," She murmured.

"It's alright, Princess," Sin said. "I did not really think that I could agree with Kouen on anything. The war is inevitable. I must thank you for going to such trouble to pick up Judal though. Our hospitality is always open to you."

"Ah, it's nothing... but thank you. I'll remember that," She flustered; her skin tone clashing horribly with the vivid shade of her hair. She pulled again violently on Judal who bore it surprisingly well.

"Oh, so we're having a war then? How fun!" He crowed, a savage grin on his lips.

"There's nothing fun about it, you idiot," Ja'far said but he didn't think that the Magi was listening to him.

"Come on, Judal. Kouen wants to see you and you know he doesn't like being kept waiting," Kougyoku said, her hand never leaving his arm.

"Alright, alright," He complained. It seemed that for now though, at least, his good humour had returned. "Well Sin, it's been fun. You ever get bored and want someone who won't bruise so easily... you know where to find me."

"That won't be necessary," Sinbad said.

Ja'far sighed in frustration. Trust the Magi to throw in one last jibe before he left. Then Judal is gone, pulled physically out of the room by the Princess, who offers an apologetic look at them. Clearly, she has some sort of idea what havoc Judal had been causing and Ja'far realises she's smarter than she looks. Of course, he thought. She did grow up with him... she should be under no illusions regarding him. He looked at Sinbad then, allowing a little warmth back into his face. And, it's the same for him and I too.

Sinbad rubbed the furrow out his brow.

"Those two sure make a lot of ruckus. I don't which is louder."

"Aren't you disappointed, Sin?" Ja'far asked. "The war with Kou... it won't be long now. No negotiations mean it's already that far advanced."

They followed the retreating figure of Kougyoku and Judal out into the sunlit courtyard. Already, they're far away. He's relieved to be alone with Sinbad now.

"Disappointed? Perhaps. I cannot think of this war as a good thing... too many of my people will be hurt. That's what's most frustrating about it. They will suffer and I can do nothing to stop it."

His face is sombre and for once, Ja'far can see how heavy a burden the country is on him. I wish I could relieve some of it for him...

There's little he can do though – it is Sin in the end who has the closest ties with this country, Sin who feels the full extent of what happens to it. It's too painful to watch Sinbad like this and his body moves on instinct; holding the King in an embrace. He's warm and solid to the touch and that reassures him a little. Sin is strong – strong enough to deal with this, he's sure.

This is perhaps all I can do for him... just be here and not let go of him.

Sinbad flinched a little as Ja'far folded into him, then he sighed and patted the silver head.

"It seems you always do enough worrying for the both of us, Ja'far. Things will work out somehow – I don't intend to let Sindria slip through my fingers so easily. Kouen has no idea who he's dealing with... I'll be glad to teach him."

He lifted Ja'far's chin up to look him straight in the eyes and there's a certain fervour there. "Besides I have something Kouen doesn't."

"What's that?" Ja'far asked and he can feel the breath catching a little in his throat. Why is that Sin's presence always manages to catch him off guard, still?

"Because I have you, obviously."

He pulled him even closer; kissing him feverishly and Ja'far moaned a little at the force of Sin's tongue on his own. He allowed it for a second and then pulled away, trying to put distance between them.

"Sin, we can't here! What if someone sees?!"

Luckily, the corridor was empty; Sharkann having left after he'd escorted the Princess to them.

"So what if they do?" Sinbad said, with a smile. "I don't care."

"Well, I care," Ja'far scowled. "It hardly looks professional."

"Must you talk of business now? If our time is limited, I'd much rather make the most of it."

He laced his fingers in Ja'far's and literally pulled him along the corridor. Ja'far stumbled to keep up; Sin's larger strides forcing him to almost run.

"Sin, what are you -?"

Only, of course he knew the palace well enough to know the direction to Sinbad's room off by heart. He protested – this was the middle of the day after all and he still has work to do. Typically, Sinbad doesn't listen. And maybe Ja'far isn't protesting as loud as he could be...

This time, Sinbad barred the door with a wicked smile curving his lips.

"I don't intend to be interrupted this time."

Once again, Sin always takes this too fast – Ja'far wishes he would slow down a little but it's as if the King is trying to make up for lost time. He paused though as his hands circled Ja'far's hips; sensing the reticence there.

"You're all tense," He said softly. Ja'far just blinked at him; letting some of his irritation show.

"Come," Sinbad said and he pulled Ja'far along with him as if he can't manage to lose contact right now. Ja'far isn't sure what he has in mind, until Sin stops by the bath; scented already that morning by the servants.

"What are you planning?" He asked, suspiciously.

Sinbad pulled off his clothes; smoothly and in a practised manner. Ja'far had a quick glimpse of his full nakedness; all the tanned, strongly corded muscles and then Sin steps in the water and submerged.

"Come in too," The King said, dark hair floating around him. Ja'far hesitated – the thought of undressing so easily and joining the King is embarrassing.

"Ja'far, it'll help relax you," Sin's voice called out and then he sees the pink flush on the other's cheeks and his smile widened. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll keep my eyes closed."

And he does then; his lids heavy and he floated serenely in the pool.

So, Ja'far gave in with a sigh, slowly undoing his own garments and let them drop to the floor. The weapons are the last to go and take some time; twisted about him as they are. As always, he feels most vulnerable without them on; more so than just his clothes. He looked up as he removed the last coil – and Sinbad's eyes are most definitely open, locked on him with a hungry stare.

"You lied," He said harshly and then quickly submerged himself. The water is warmer than he'd thought it would be; faintly heated by the sun.

Sinbad laughed. "You were too tempting to keep my promise."

His face turned serious tough, a slight down turning to the eyes and mouth.

"I hated that he touched you." A moment while Ja'far looked at him, without comprehension. "Judal. I... I didn't like it, not at all. I want to wash it away from you – make you mine again."

Ja'far bit down on his own retort – that as far as he was concerned, Sinbad had been the one Judal had been getting all touchy feely with.

Sinbad reached for Ja'far; held the pale face delicately in his hands and kissed him again. It was a powerful kiss, a lingering one - enough to distract him for a second of how close their bodies were. He remembered soon enough though, when Sinbad's erection nudged his chest and he jumped a little at the touch.

Sinbad broke away, laughing. "See the effect you have on me?"

"You can't blame me for that," Ja'far said. "Your sex drive is way too high."

The warm water is doing its work though as Sin said: his body is starting to relax, become more pliable. Sinbad moved, backing him against the wall of the bath and his hands moved lower now; down his chest and further. He gasped slightly as Sin touched him and felt himself harden under that touch.

"My sex drive is high, is it? You don't seem to be doing too bad there, yourself."

Ja'far coloured but he clung tighter onto Sin. His mouth pressed against the King's shoulder and then when the caress sped up, he bit down. He heard a moan leave Sin's mouth and smiled slightly – so he'd found something Sinbad liked then.

He was feeling warmer by the second now; not sure whether it was due to the water lapping around them or Sin's rough fingers. His breath came sharper and a wave of dizziness hit him.

"Sin," He murmured. "I think I'll pass out if we stay in here."

Sinbad cursed but obviously he remembered the time Ja'far had collapsed – he didn't want a similar thing happening now.

He lifted Ja'far bodily out the pool, leaving him dripping on the side as he pulled himself out. It's more exposed like this and Ja'far curled up a little; embarrassed to show how his body had reacted. Sin's hands trailed up his legs, following the pattern of scars there. Sinbad had scars too of course, many of them, but mostly they marred his chest and his arms. He seemed fascinated by Ja'fars.

"They're ugly," Ja'far said and he almost pulled away. But then, Sin's lips are hot paths on his skin, over his legs and thighs.

"No, they're not. Not one part of you is ugly. These scars are part of who you are."

He worked his way slowly up Ja'far's body like this, though annoyingly, he bypassed the area where he wanted most attention. His purple eyes fixed on the dark marks on Ja'far's chest.

"Did I do that?"

Ja'far raised an eyebrow. "I don't recall letting anyone else manhandle me. You forget I'm not as strong as you."

"You're plenty strong... I think I like how easily I can leave my mark on you though."

He touched a bruise and Ja'far winced. "Well, I'd rather you didn't. I have to live with them after, you know."

He'd complain more but Sin silenced him with another kiss. His whole body is lying on him now and for a second, Ja'far thinks he'll be crushed. Sinbad is so much bigger, heavier than him after all. He tried to move a little, to allow more oxygen to his lungs – and then Sin held him tight and flipped so Ja'far now lies on top of him. It's a strange feeling, straddling Sinbad like this and unbidden, a memory returns from the last time they were in this position; with Ja'far's weapons held to his throat. But of course, this is different, completely different and it's oddly comforting to feel Sin's chest beneath him; to lie on it and feel the rise and fall of his breathing. He wondered if he could hear the heart beat if he listened hard enough and rested his ear there. He shifted slightly, enough for his skin to brush up Sin's erection and for the man to hiss deeply at the movement.

"You're going to be the death of me, at this rate," Sin breathed. His hands passed down the lightly freckled back and hips and then Ja'far tensed sharply as Sin inserted a finger. He mewled slightly in protest, looking confused at Sinbad.

"What are -?"

He could feel it pressing inside him now, hurting and yet, perhaps it didn't feel too bad after all. And he can hear Sin's voice, made deeper with longing as he says:  
"How do you think men do it, Ja'far? Come, I know you're not that naive."

Ja'far almost choked at the words – yes, he'd heard but... the very idea seemed so ridiculous he'd never given it much thought.

You mean he's really going to...

Sin's finger pressed deeper and he moaned a little, half pain, half pleasure. Sin's voice is hot by his ear as Ja'far clung onto him, desperately. "Move for me, now."

He isn't sure exactly what Sinbad wanted from him but he tries anyway; rides him even though it makes his body quiver. Sinbad's face is twisted as if he's the one in pain, not Ja'far and then with sudden motion, he pulled out and moved so once again Ja'far body was pinned beneath his own. His face was apologetic but heated with need.

"Sorry," He murmured. "But, I want to feel your body under mine as I have you."

Ja'far's too flushed to complain although when he feels his legs being moved apart and the tip of Sin's erection pressing against him, he panics a little. Their bodies are still wet, slippery and slick from the water but still, he isn't sure this won't hurt him.

"I'll try to be gentle," Sin said softly.

Ja'far doesn't quite believe him, not knowing him so well as he does – but when Sin enters him, it's slow and careful. It still hurts though and Ja'far's fingers scrabbled at his back, clawing with his nails and pulling at the long tendrils of hair.

"Easy," Sin murmured. "Almost there now."

And then he's buried in him, up to the hilt and Ja'far is left blinking tears from his eyes and wondering how the hell he even fit. It's never more clear than now how big he is; how full Ja'far feels stretched tight around him like this. Sin's mouth kisses the tears away before they fall, kisses his mouth tenderly. And then he moves inside him and Ja'far cries out; can't hold back the sound as Sin thrusts so deep. He can feel a heat building in his chest, in his own erection from the movement and only Sin's arms around him stop him falling apart right then and there. It's too much, surely. He doesn't know how other people bear it, how Sin has done this so many times before. But then as Sin begins to find a rhythm, he begins to let himself go into it, to the slowly rising pleasure. He comes first, which he isn't very surprised by – Sinbad is more experienced after all. But it isn't long after that Sin's body shakes against his own and he reaches his own climax, mouth fixing and leaving a red mark on Ja'far's chest.

More marks, Ja'far thought but the irritation is dulled. It doesn't seem to matter much right now, though he flinched a little as Sin pulled out of him, leaving a warm stickiness behind. He wants another bath again, but not now – now, he doesn't want to move at all. It's enough to feel Sin's heavy breathing next to him, his strong arms still, even now, holding onto him. He'd half expected Sin to get up and leave straight away once it was over, so this – this closeness – is a surprise. He quite likes it.

"So," he said after a minute or two had passed. "What now?"

He meant it too – really, he wasn't sure what was going to happen anymore. Sinbad's eyes were so warm, so familiar though when they meet his own that he feels his worry melt away, instantly.

"Now, I have to pretend I didn't just ravish you when we go back out there in front of everyone else. Which believe me, will be a very hard task. And then tonight, I want you all over again."

"Again?" Ja'far exclaimed in shock. He can't be serious, surely? Ja'far didn't think he could do that again anytime soon. Even his nerves had their limits. "Do you want to kill me?"

"I told you, didn't I? I plan to make the most of my time."

Ja'far frowned, but then Sinbad's lips met his. And he already knew that this was one argument he was going to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it took me a while but I finally got to this point! This isn't the end though... the story will be returning with a small time skip. I'll be away for about 2 weeks though as I'll be out of the country, so it'll have to wait for now... Hope you all liked this chapter after Judal fucking everything up for a while!


	8. Chapter Eight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Wow so delayed… I was freakishly busy and my muse decided it didn't want to play nice. I've finally managed to get the next chapter out though. Once again, nsfw. Time skipped from the last chapter a few months as well, to the middle of the war with the Kou Empire.)

Sindria had changed a lot in the past few months. Once a prosperous country, the war had altered everything. Sindria wasn't in poverty, not yet, but it had been affected greatly. People walked past each other swiftly on the streets now with heads down and Sinbad had not been back in the past month which only added to the sense of desolation present everywhere.

A country without its King feels simply lost and forgotten, Ja'far thought. If this war doesn't end soon, Sin won't have anything left to come back home to.

It had taken many sleepless nights for Ja'far just to keep a precarious balance on the finances. War had sucked most of the Treasury dry too, and it was only through their allegiance to other empires that it wasn't completely empty. Once this is over, there will be many debts to pay.

Yet, the war seemed to show little sign of ending anytime soon. How large are the Kou to have such limitless forces. It doesn't make sense. As of yet, there had been no great losses on either side, but Ja'far sensed that sometime soon there had to be a slip that would tip the scale. One that would perhaps decide the turn of the battle all together.

And so, Ja'far had left the relative safety of the palace too; had come here to the front where the battle raged daily. His place was there, he knew – not hiding away in Sindria. It had felt like hiding anyway and he had hated every minute of it. Sinbad had protested on his arrival, telling him he was more use to him back in the palace running things, but Ja'far had argued in such a way that Sin had no choice but to give in. Besides, he was sure Drakon was perfectly capable in keeping the city and people safe. He knew why Sin had been so upset though to have him there – it wasn't that Ja'far couldn't fight, far from it. But he knew Sinbad feared to have him where death was, where it could creep out its dark tendrils and snatch him away. In truth though, that didn't bother him much... death had always been a presence in his life from his childhood. While not a welcome one, he did not fear it – not for himself, anyway.

"And how do you think I feel?" He had retorted to Sinbad. "To watch you do the same, to see you disappear into war like this and not know-"

He hadn't needed to finish for Sin to understand him.

Even so though, he'd still been stuck in the campsite; relegated to devising battle strategies. Closer to the war he may have been now, but he still felt as if he were hiding from it, stuck in the tent all day. It made him grumpier than normal, snapping irritably at Pisti who had joined him there. Despite her constant good humour, he could tell even she was annoyed at being left out of the fighting, although he privately agreed with Sin that she should stay in the camp. He would not send children to battle and perhaps that was why he had refused to send for help from Aladdin. They needed a Magi though, more now than ever, Ja'far knew. If only to counter Judal who had caused enough havoc for ten generals and was proving to be a constant headache. No surprise there. He always did even before this. They had managed to hold him back for now, but he suspected that was partly because Kouen had commanded him not to go all out yet. Even so, he'd still sent Spartoi to the infirmary the previous week. The general wouldn't be walking for another few weeks more yet, not with the broken legs Judal had left him with.

The tent flap was pushed aside and with weary movements, Sinbad entered. His robes were dusty from the desert sands and stained vividly with blood. Sin must have seen Ja'far's look of panic on his entrance and he quickly waved his arm hastily over the crimson marks.

"Relax. It's not my blood."

Ja'far wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse. Still, as far as he could tell, Sinbad was unhurt and that at least, was something to be thankful for. He felt a weight of tension leave his shoulders, one that he hadn't even realised he'd been holding all day.

"What happened?" He asked and moved forward. Sin must have been even more tired than he looked as he leant heavily on Ja'far until he could sink slowly onto the chair near the desk. Ja'far held him there for a second; unsure he could even sit up straight, unaided. His hands traced lines swiftly – he didn't want Sin to realise he was checking for wounds, for injuries that the King had omitted to tell him. Still, it looked like he had been telling the truth – the blood was not his own. He let out a small breath, a sigh of relief and turned away, busying himself with pouring water from a jug into a large bowl. Sinbad hadn't answered him and he turned back now, wetting a rag of cloth from the water.

"Here, let me wash that off you," He murmured, dabbing roughly at the blood stains. They seemed to be firmly stuck into Sin's clothes and he was forced to discard the top half, focusing instead on the ones splattering his skin. "Sin? Speak to me." He said.

Sinbad's chest rose in a heavy sigh but he allowed Ja'far to carry on washing away the marks of battle.

"It's getting worse out there. We were almost overwhelmed today. If I hadn't... I had to djinn equip to force a pathway for retreat in the end. Even with that, there were too many... I couldn't even have hoped to have beaten them all."

That was indeed worrying, if Sin's power had not been enough. Still, he tried not to let it show on his face, concentrating on wiping clear Sin's skin, warm under his pale fingers. Still, if he had to use the power of the djinss, then it was no wonder that Sinbad was exhausted. He could tell now from the faint marks of pain around his eyes, the black markings revealed now as he'd pulled away the upper layer of clothing – yes, Sin had pushed it too far again. Ja'far wasn't sure if he wanted to hit him or hold him close for that.

"You wear yourself out," He said. "You're supposed to lead them, not die for them. Learn the difference, idiot."

Sin shrugged at that. "They are my people to protect. I cannot just stand and skulk in the background... and I am more powerful then them. I can handle this... this is nothing. But anyway... we made it out. Not without loss though."

Ja'far tensed a little and looked up. "Who?" He asked, throat suddenly dry.

Sin's eyes clouded for a second. "The injuries are not so grave as Spartoi's, praise the Djinn's. But still, he's going to be out of action for a while. Yamu's watching over him in the Infirmary as we speak."

Oh... he knew it was Sharkann then, if the magician was there at his side. The two may have always been at each other's throats but he knew that if the other were in trouble, they would always be the first to the other's rescue. Yamuraiha must be beating herself up over not being there to help him in the fight. He felt a rush of pity, of sadness. He should go and see Sharkann soon too, even if there was little he could do. He had no skill at healing after all, not of the sort this would require.

"How bad is he hurt?" He asked.

Sin shook his head. "His ribs and sword arm are smashed pretty bad. Yamu was mentioning something about major reconstruction... I don't know, it was all magic lingo. Of course, the fool was protecting me. He always was so brash and eager for fighting – I should not have let him... I could have protected myself just fine."

There was real pain there in Sin's voice, real guilt.

"Sharkann will be fine," Ja'far said softly. "He's tough. And do not blame yourself for his hurt. He... We... All of us – we would all die for you, Sin. You're just going to have to accept that."

"And you too?" Sin asked, and his breathing seemed to have increased somewhat. "Must I see you fall before me too?"

"Sin, I will do what I must. Even if you don't like it. With Sharkann gone, we need another General out there. It's time I finally joined this war – I'm fed up of being here all day, accomplishing nothing."

"You're not –"

"You're shielding me." Ja'far interrupted him. "I understand, I do. I even think its a little sweet... but this is getting us nowhere. I refuse to sit back and watch any longer. Sin please... I'm not just your... your lover. I'm part of your army, so let me help you."

He could tell then by the slight downturn of the lips, the way Sin's muscles relaxed that he'd given in. He didn't like it, not at all, but he couldn't dispute Ja'far's reason anymore.

"And another thing," He said, trying to twist the turn of the conversation away from this pain. "You really should contact them. I know you don't want them to be in the battle but Aladdin would want to be here. The other two as well."

The blood finally seemed to have been washed away. Sin barely seemed to notice though, his eyes far away and distant. It scared Ja'far a little, seeing that pensive look – things must be bad indeed if Sinbad was becoming more serious. Will the war change him? The thought sent a panic running through his body – for all his moaning, all his lecturing... he didn't really want Sinbad to change in any way. Wordlessly, he brushed fingers up the expanse of skin on Sin's chest and then he pulled himself closer to feel that familiar warmth. His lips found Sin's own; kissed him softly – and then when there was no response, more roughly. Sinbad didn't even seem to register the touch, of hot breath mingling with his own. Ja'far wasn't going to give up so easily though. Don't you dare disappear on me now, he thought as he planted hot kisses further down, his neck, his chest. I refuse to let you go away where I can't reach. I refuse to let you break down.

Sinbad didn't move at all. His fingers pulled away clothing, still embarrassingly clumsy. You'd think by now, he thought to himself, with a certain wry humour, that I would have gotten used to this. But he hadn't, not at all – and despite Sin's casual manner in bed, he was betting that he hadn't either. Still, Ja'far hadn't attempted this before which made nerves spiral a little in his stomach. He pushed them away, with irritation – Fool, how difficult can it be? Still, it felt strange as he took Sin into his mouth, senses suddenly full of so much taste and sensation, he couldn't quite suppress a shiver. Even like this, Sinbad was large and it took a few seconds before he dared to run a tongue experimentally along the length. Oh. Well, he must have done something right then, as he felt Sin harden in his mouth and somehow that made it easier. And better, even better – he felt Sinbad stir too, felt his body shift on the chair; looked up in time to see those golden eyes staring at him in bewilderment. Saw the faint glow there, of his desire rising.

"Ja'far, what are you -? You don't have to –"

Ja'far pulled away, so he could speak but kept hands on Sin's erection, faintly caressing.

"I want to make you feel better," He said, forcing his voice steady. He knew how ridiculous that sounded, as if just this could make Sin forget his worries. Indeed, Sin looked like he was about to protest more, but right then Ja'far took him in his mouth again and the objection turned into a moan instead. Ja'far would have smiled at that, if he hadn't thought he might have accidentally hurt Sin by doing so. Even now, it was hard to keep his teeth from scraping the soft skin and when they did, he felt Sin's body jerk, a keening sound issuing from his lips. It was hard not to watch him when he was like this; face heated and so full of emotion and need. He began to understand why it was that Sin insisted so on staring at him in bed, even though he hated the penetrating gaze so much; wanted to hide his face from it. But, seeing that abandon there, the sheer rawness of feeling made butterflies dance in Ja'far's chest, turned him on more than Sin's touch alone could have done. He spread his lips wider, to take in more of Sin, until he was almost gagging, and then by impulse he tried to swallow. Whatever that did, Sin seemed to like it though as he moaned louder, large hands tangling in Ja'far's hair, pushing him deeper, so deep he didn't think he could take anymore. He started to move, back and forth, allowing himself a brief respite to breathe before Sin's length filled him again. He knew Sin's body was growing more relaxed by the minute; those hands no longer pushing him closer. He was glad for that, glad also that Sin didn't thrust inside him – he didn't think he could handle that and may accidentally bite if he had done. He looked up again, noting with some satisfaction the robes in disarray, the hazy look in Sin's eyes that wasn't just from tiredness. Gods, he's so beautiful, he thought. How does he look better out of his clothes then in them?

Surely, Sin was almost there now, judging by his sudden passivity and Ja'far quickened his movements. His green eyes fixed on Sin's own, searchingly.

"My God," the King breathed. "You look so damn sexy when you do that. If I had known, I would have asked you to do this earlier."

Ja'far frowned at that, forgot himself and tried to speak – and then Sin exploded in his mouth, heat and a salty taste that he almost choked on. He backed away instantly, panicked and then accidentally, he swallowed. Sinbad laughed at the look of disgust on Ja'far's face.

"What did you think was going to happen if you heated me up so much?" He laughed and the expression of happiness on his face was so real, that Ja'far almost forgot his embarrassment. Almost. Hastily, he brushed away the stickiness clinging to his mouth. Sin tried to stand, wobbled and sank down to his knees in front of Ja'far, a smile still playing on his lips.

"Did I really taste so bad for you make that face?" He murmured. Ja'far didn't trust himself to reply – it wasn't the taste really, just that it had been new and strange and, dammit, he hadn't expected Sin to come so forcefully like that.

"You know, if going out to fight every day means I get a welcome like that from you, I should do it more often."

"Shut up," Ja'far said.

Dammit, why did Sinbad always insist on talking, on making it worse when he felt so vulnerable as this? He could swear he must do it on purpose... and of course, Ja'far's threats never even fazed him. Even now, Sin was laughing again and then the other man kissed him, heatedly and new taste filled his mouth, overriding that sticky saltiness. When Sinbad finally moved away, he looked tired again though.

"As much as I'd like to return the favour... I don't think I'm much good for anything tonight. I'd rather not fall asleep halfway through – I don't think you'd forgive me."

"Don't be stupid," Ja'far hissed, but still he pulled Sinbad up onto shaking feet; helped, well dragged him, really, over to the bed. Clearly, Sinbad would once again be invading his tent for the night. He wouldn't mind so much if it hadn't been for the King's disconcerting habit of sleeping naked – and a worrying new one he'd developed recently of removing Ja'far's clothing too in his sleep. Still, he looked peaceful enough lying under the sheets like that, eyes already lidded. Younger somehow, as if being in such a defenceless position took the years off you. Ja'far paused for a second, then pulled off his own robes, keeping on the undertunic though – he didn't feel the same sense of comfort of sleeping with only his skin. When he lay down next to Sin, pulling him close, the King's eyes fluttered back open.

"Hm? I thought you had work to do?"

"It can wait," Ja'far said shortly and thankfully, Sin left it at that, though his arms cradled around him. He bit a lip in irritation as the strong fingers pulled up his tunic enough so they were skin to skin but this time, at least, he allowed it. What was he supposed to have said? That he just wanted to hold Sinbad close to him, while they still could? That it was the only time of day he felt safe and free from worry; managed to push away that constant fear that one day Sinbad would go off to the battle and he wouldn't return to him. His fingers trailed in Sin's hair, untangling the long strands.

Tomorrow, he swore to himself. Tomorrow, I'll go with him. I won't let him out of my sight.

But tonight, he would watch him sleep and kiss away the nightmares which would wrench Sinbad awake with words of blood and death on his lips. That was his job too, after all.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Very delayed wow! My exams aren’t over yet but I wanted to write some more so I squeezed this chapter out. I do miss writing these guys. A certain other royal makes an appearance again but it will get back to being Sinja centric again next chapter.)

It was with a heavy feeling that Ja’far pressed the roll of parchment into the messenger’s hands. Despite how he had urged Sin about it, he hadn’t wanted to do this. Sending for a child’s help, even if this child happened to be a powerful Magi seemed wrong to him somehow. But, he wondered, what child in this world is still innocent?   
Still, he hadn’t informed the King that he’d sent the plea for help – not after all his careless dismissals of the subject. He supposed he should feel guilty for that, but he didn’t. This is to help Sinbad. It matters little if he doesn’t approve of the plan. We have little other aces up our sleeves, as it is.  
He watched the messenger leave through the crowded campsite and then turned away to watch the people around him. Most of the people gathered here were soldiers, just rising for another day that would likely end in bloodshed. It was enough to dampen anyone’s spirits but, he noticed, they seemed cheerful. There was much laughter and talk and he almost smiled at that. Morale was still high, at least.   
He stifled a wince as he walked away, back to the Generals tent. Clearly, he was out of practice from fighting by the way his muscles ached. He’d thought the training he’d carried on at the Palace had been enough, but the reality of battle had cast a different light on things. He’d been an assassin after all, more used to attacking individual targets under the cover of darkness, then this mass melee onslaught.  
And yes, maybe in these last peaceful years, he’d forgotten – somehow, yes he really had forgotten – what it was like.  
He bore it better than most, he knew and for that he had to thank the training that enabled him to adopt an emotionless state. But he’d noticed that Sin’s eyes watching him more closely now, as if fearing he would dissemble right there in front of him. You needn’t worry, he wanted to tell him.  
But maybe, he just wasn’t quite ready to show how cold he really could be. Sinbad... thinking of him like that... that hurt. Strange, such things had never bothered him much before.  
****  
He almost choked on breakfast when she stormed in, robes flying in disarray.  
Kougyoku after all, was the last person any of them had expected to see. And even more unusual – the princess was alone. The usual banter died out at her appearance and she noted it, her face reddening and arms raised slightly. Pisti’s mouth gaped openly and Spartoi sat frozen, a spoon halted inches away from his mouth. All in all, they looked a sight. Ja’far silently felt for the wires on his arms – he wouldn’t like to hurt the girl yet if she were here to assassinate Sin... but her open arrival had caught even him off guard and he did nothing. Besides, this didn’t seem like an attack to him. Not any he’d ever heard of before.  
“Princess,” Sinbad said, voice tinted with shock. He recovered quickly though; held out a chair and gestured for her to be seated.   
Ja’far frowned. Ever the gentleman. He was sure Sin would try to charm even an Al-Sarmen if they happened to have a pretty face. He leaned forward, keeping his voice low so their unexpected guest wouldn’t hear.  
“Sin, I don’t think this is wise. You know she is-“  
“She is not here to harm us,” Sin said, louder now. “Are you, Princess?”  
She shook her head violently, her whole body jerking with the action. Sin pushed a goblet of wine towards her, his eyes fixed on her trembling form.  
“So, do enlighten me... to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”  
That was all it took and she burst into messy, rather noisy tears. Yamuraiha was by her side in an instant, giving Sin a dirty look as if somehow he were the cause of all this. Sinbad, in the meantime, looked nonplussed, face full of consternation. Ja’far had to stifle a grin at that. The great King can’t even handle a crying girl?   
Then again, even he didn’t like to see Kougyoku so openly upset and he surreptitiously passed her a handkerchief. Everyone around the table shuffled uncomfortably in the awkward atmosphere. Yamuraiha kept clinging tightly to her shoulders as if to dare anyone to go near them. Her turquoise eyebrows knit together as she hissed, eyes blazing.  
“What have you done now, Sinbad? The poor girl looks like she’s been dragged through the desert backwards!”  
“Me?!” Sin stuttered, dithered and all in all made himself look completely guilty of something he had no idea he was being accused of.  
Eventually however the Princess hushed long enough to be able to talk around gasping hiccups.   
“No,” Kougyoku sniffed. “It’s not – this isn’t anything to do with you. I should not even have brought you into this... I should not have come here. I – It’s just....I just had nowhere else to turn to.”  
Ja’far leant closer then. “What has happened, Princess? Forgive me, but it would not look well for you to be seen in the enemy’s camp.”  
She blinked for a second, fingers roughly dragging at the fine silk of her robes. Robed laced with sand and dust, he realised. Had she come here on foot? From the Kou Empire? And, it was still early morning which means she must have travelled through the night...  
“You’re in trouble, Princess,” Sinbad said softly and he caught her reddened eyes with his own. “Please tell me and I will do my best to help. You are still a friend to Sindria regardless of our family’s dispute.”  
Ja’far sent him a warning look at that to which, predictably, Sin paid no heed. Not that Ja’far thought Kougyoku was devious enough to be able to lie like this. She had a tendency, he’d noticed, to spill out all her true thoughts anyway. If Kou had thought to ever use her as a spy, they would have had a hopeless time of it. Still, I must keep on guard. She could still be a threat, cunningly placed here in our midst. Someone so volatile after all...  
His thoughts were rudely interrupted as she laughed harshly, a violent explosion of sound and then she clapped her slim hands over her mouth in embarrassment.  
“They are not – they are not my family anymore. I... no longer hold any claim to the Kou name. I suppose that doesn’t even make me a Princess anymore. You see – I left them. Last night.”  
There was chaos in the tent at her words. Everyone seemed to be talking at once and not necessarily to one another. Kougyoku promptly burst into tears again, though they were thankfully quieter this time. Eventually after much banging on the table and calls for silence, Ja’far managed to quiet them down again. Even his mind was reeling though. For Kougyoku to do such a thing... to betray her own family like this... I was right. She’s going to cause trouble for us. It’s bad enough we’re at war with them, but now we’re harbouring a traitor too? His heart sank in his chest and he couldn’t help but look at Sinbad, with the worry plain on his face. He didn’t think the King noticed though. He was staring earnestly at the Princess, who was faltering slightly under his eyes.  
“You will always be a Princess, Kougyoku, regardless of your family ties. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different. Now, won’t you tell me why you did this? To cast aside your family is not something to be done lightly.”  
They all looked at her then expectantly. She bit her lip but then nodded slowly.  
“Things aren’t as they were. Since... since this war started, everything has changed. I tried to ignore it, I really did... but this is a fight I just don’t agree on. I love my brothers but... I can’t... no, I won’t fight for something I don’t believe in. I’ve spent time in your country, with you all... I like you all. To see it trampled by my family just because they want it – no, I can’t see it. I won’t see it. I argued so much... but they don’t listen to me. I’m always just the silly, little sister – the one who always used to cling on their sleeves, who ran after them all the time. But I grew up, and maybe I’m not so silly anymore.”  
Her voice seemed to gain strength as she spoke until it no longer quavered and her body was held high and erect.  
“I made my decision. My way will be of my own choosing – and I do not choose to be with them any longer. I know the problems this will cause but I will bear the consequences of my actions. I want to join you, to fight with you against my... my family, if need be.”  
“Are you sure, Kougyoku? Are you truly sure you wish to bear this burden? You will be cast out – an exile from Kou once they find out what you’ve done. Can you bear the shame of that?” Sinbad’s voice was sad as he spoke.  
For a second, her face fell and it looked like she might falter. But then she shook her head, eyes closed for a second.  
“I am not a child. I will not remain a child and stay ignorant. Let me fight for you, please. I know you have no cause to trust in me... but I promise you that I will do whatever you ask if you’ll only let me stay.” She looked frantic for a second, as if trying to think of a way to persuade him. “I’ll – I’ll marry you if that’s what it takes! If you’ll trust me and let me join your army, I’ll marry you, Sinbad.”  
Her face was even redder than ever now. Her offer caught Sin off guard and even his cheeks bloomed. He tried to speak but stumbled over his words, clumsily.  
Ja’far turned away, not wanting to watch any more. As if he hadn’t had an offer in marriage before. Why is he making such a fuss now? He tried to ignore how bitter the words sounded in his mind, his fingers digging grooves into the skin of his arms. Go on, marry her. Won’t that be best for you, after all? She holds affection for you, it’s so obvious. You’d be a fool to turn her down.  
His eyes swayed back to them for a second, then widened when he saw Sin glare right at him. And, he remembered. Sinbad was a fool, wasn’t he? His fingers loosed on his arm and he felt a flutter of relief in his stomach. He smiled faintly and Sinbad seeing it, nodded.   
He turned back to the Princess, a grin on his own lips. “I am not currently in need of a wife, Kougyoku. You need do such a silly thing as marry me to gain my trust. Did I not say you had Sindria’s protection before? I do not revoke that now. If you wish to ally yourself, I will not stop you.”  
Kougyoku’s lips quivered and for a brief second she looked at Ja’far and back to Sinbad. He froze at the look; felt his throat turn dry. Is it really so damn obvious? But perhaps it was, because she smiled, almost knowingly.   
“I admit, I’m relieved... I do not think I would make a good wife. Not to you, at least.” She did look more relaxed too, as if the marriage offer had been a last resort to her, not something she had really wanted. That didn’t make sense to Ja’far... hadn’t the Princess always harboured feelings for the King of Sindria? It had always seemed so at any rate, but if he were wrong – what had changed?  
Sinbad laughed. “Believe me, I would make a terrible husband – I would not wish to torment you so with that.” He sent a laughing grin towards Ja’far who glared back at him balefully. Yes, he could relate to that. “Still though, if you insist on joining with us, I request that you stay away from the battlefield, Princess. I do not think it wise for you to provoke your brother’s anger so very openly.”  
She shook her head at that violently, fists clenched. “You cannot stop me. I have a djinn of my own – I am more than able to fight my way. You testified yourself once how strong I am. You can’t tell me you’re not in need of fighters... I heard what happened to some of your generals the other day. Ju... he should not have been so rough...”  
Sinbad sighed, his face troubled. “It is not your safety I worry about. Do you truly wish to fight your family face to face?”  
Ja’far stepped forward. “I think Sin, that is a decision the Princess must choose herself. She has took the step and left them. And she is right – we do need more fighters. In the meantime... I suggest we make arrangements. The Kou won’t take this insult lightly. I can guarantee that they will send someone to reclaim her – someone who will cause as much damage as they can in the process.”  
“I’ll have the perimeter guards on lookout,” Spartoi spoke softly.  
“I wish we could offer you a better welcome, Princess but times as they are...”  
She shook her head quickly at Sinbad’s words. “It is I who must offer you thanks. I owe you so much for not turning you back on me when many would. I promise you - I won’t let you down!”  
Ja’far didn’t need to check she was lying – he could tell from the fervour in her eyes that she meant every word. He wished that made him feel better but it didn’t. No matter how he looked at it, he could only see trouble coming from this. Kouen is going to take this very, very personally. If he didn’t want to destroy us before, she’s just made sure of it.  
****  
As predicted, it didn’t take long before a Kou emissary arrived. He wasn’t even surprised that it was Judal – had even expected it. For once though the fiery eyes looked strangely dulled, the smile no longer fixed in place. He’s taking this seriously, Ja’far realised.  
That he came alone wasn’t a surprise. That he was so quiet – that was. Ja’far had expected large displays of magic – wasn’t that normal where Judal was concerned? But no, for once, he simply walked into the campsite, regarding everyone with scornful looks. His movements were edgy and he barked orders at the soldiers roughly to bring Kougyoku out.  
“We aren’t holding her prisoner, you know.” Sinbad said when he got there. Even he looked uneasy though by how different the Magi seemed. Judal flashed him an angry look. For once there was no comeback, no insult from him. That alone, meant something was very, very wrong. What’s upset him so much? Just because Kougyoku...  
Ja’far kept his fingers wrapped around his wires anyway. He knew never to be too careful around the Magi and seeing him so on edge did not make it any better.  
“Just bring her out.” Judal said, voice raw.  
“Ju?” A voice answered him. “I’m here.” The Princess looked worried, but she stood tall and straight despite that. “And you can tell Kouen that I’m not going back home. I’m staying here.”  
He laughed, a slight fringe of mania to it. “Going back? Listen, old lady – they don’t want you back. You hear me? That’s all they sent me here to tell you. That – that they don’t want traitors in their family. That outcasts don’t belong there.”  
Ja’far blinked. Why did it look like it was hurting Judal more to say that, then it did for Kougyoku to hear it? Indeed, she looked pale and shocked – clearly, she hadn’t expected for them to abandon her so easily. Neither, had Ja’far if he was being honest. Did they really care so little for their own flesh and blood? It only intensified his disgust of them further.  
“Ju-“ She murmured, then came to a halt. “You... you came all the way here to tell me that? They could have just sent an envoy. Why – why did you come?”  
His eyes darted back and forth then and his mouth twisted. “Because you’re stupid, you hear me! You’re stupid to do this! How could you- How-?”  
Ja’far eye’s widened. Was Judal really lost for words? Sinbad eyed them both as if judging something. Then he waved his arms around at the people gathered for them to disperse.  
“Everyone, this isn’t a show! Let the two talk in peace, shall we?”   
There was grumbling but eventually, people wandered away. Ja’far wanted to stop him, tell Sinbad that this wasn’t a good idea to leave Judal alone here, but Sin shushed him and led him a bit further away. Not so far they couldn’t be of aid to the Princess if she needed it, he noted. He shook off Sin’s arm in irritation.  
“You’re leaving them alone? How is that a good idea, exactly?” He growled.  
“They have things to sort out, Ja’far. Judal won’t hurt Kougyoku – trust me on that. Haven’t you noticed she’s the one person who seems to affect him?”  
Ja’far shook his head at that. “She’s not so important to him. He wouldn’t join her, you know that as well as I do. His loyalty lies with Kouen; always will do.”  
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. Though I think Judal may be too pig headed to admit it.”  
“Admit what?” He asked, frustrated. Sinbad just shook his head at him; lifted a hand to swipe fingers gently over Ja’far’s freckles. Ja’far wrinkled his nose at that and began to say something but again, Sinbad quieted him.  
“Shh, just watch. You might learn something about our Magi friend.”  
Ja’far sighed but did let his eyes drift over to where Kougyoku was debating heatedly with Judal. If he had been quiet before, he certainly wasn’t now – the two of them were arguing so loudly, it was easy enough to pick up the words.  
“Did you think this was easy for me?” She hissed at him.   
Gone was her ladylike manner now, her face livid with anger. Judal, oddly, seemed more like himself too.  
“I don’t care if it was easy or not. You betrayed us, Kougyoku. Were you really surprised that Kouen dropped you after that!?”  
She shook her head. “No, I don’t care. You can’t make me feel anymore guilty for this than I already do. Ju – I’m not a child anymore. When are you going to stop treating me as one?”  
He froze at that, eyeing her warily. Then, his lip curled and he almost spat the next words.  
“You’re still just a brat to me. Tell me – why him? Why did you go running off to Sinbad, of all people?” He looked restless now, pacing back and forth as if he had to keep moving somehow. Then he turned abruptly, clasped her shoulders in a clumsy grip. “If you were in trouble, you should have come to –“  
He broke off.  
Kougyoku blinked at him for a second. Her cheeks flushed a little but she took a step back, wrenching out of his hands.  
“To you? What would you have done if I had, Ju? Tried to persuade me to stay? I couldn’t – I – I’m not like you, Judal!” She looked distinctly glassy around the eyes but her voice still held strong. “It’s not like I could have asked you to come with me. I already knew what the answer would be.”  
His eyes flashed. “You’re out of your mind... and it’s his fault. That idiot king – he’s cast some sort of spell on you, he-“  
“No,” Kougyoku said softly. “My mind is clear. I am under no delusions – and neither are you. You know I never really did belong there – me, the illegitimate child of a courtesan. I... I could never have been your King candidate. And, let’s face it – don’t you always put Kouen first? Ju... I don’t wish to fight you but... there really isn’t any other option, is there?”  
“Beware of the enemies you make, old woman,” he said, darkly. “Kouen told me to leave you alone this time, so I will. But they’ll want to make an example of you, Kougyoku. Next time-“  
She smiled faintly. “Are you trying to threaten me or warn me?”  
Judal looked uncomfortable. “It’s not too late, you know. If you return with me now, I’m sure your brother will relent. Things can go back to the way they were before.”  
Kougyoku laughed bitterly as if the very idea were ludicrous to her. “No, he won’t. But thanks for trying anyway. Knowing that you want me to come back... that makes me feel a little better.”  
Judal’s face twisted in anger. “I never said that! I never – Stop imagining things, you idiot!”  
There didn’t seem any real menace to his ire though – if anything he’d been defused a little. No, Sinbad was right. He wouldn’t hurt her. Not right now anyway.  
Ja’far shot Sinbad a look of understanding. “Kouen never sent Judal here at all, did he?”  
Sinbad smiled. “That was my surmise, as well.”  
He looked at them for a second longer, half disbelieving. “It’s strange...” He murmured.  
“No stranger than you or me,” Sinbad replied, his eyes alight with humour.  
Ja’far smiled wryly at that. “Even so,” He said, voice worried. “Those two won’t work things out so easily, will they?”  
Sin shook his head. “It is likely that the next time they will meet will be on the opposite ends of our armies.”  
Ja’far closed his eyes at that; tried to imagine him and Sinbad in their places, fighting against the other. He couldn’t even picture such a thing. I may not always have had loyalty for Sin, but it’s not likely I’d ever lose it now. I can’t even begin to understand the pain Kougyoku must be going through.  
No, he knew as he watched Sinbad, followed with his eyes the familiar lines on his face. I never want to understand that pain.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is beyond late in updating and for that I can only apologise – life has been all kinds of crazy and I honestly didn’t have much muse for fanfics. I missed this fic though so it’s been nice to go back to it! As always... this is full of angst though I hope you’ll find some of the happy parts in it too. The poor Kou empire gets made out to be such villains here too - I guess as so much of this is seen from Sindria’s side of the story. I’d love to do something from Kou’s side though sometime too! Anyway, I hope you guys like and as always feel free to drop me an ask if you have any questions or requests.

 

The addition of a Kou Princess to the ranks had made the whole campsite jittery.  Ja’far had noted that with unease.  She was after all, in many of their eyes, a traitor, a spy set amongst them from the Kou Empire.  Perhaps he would have believed it too if he hadn’t seen the look in her eyes.  There was a startling sadness there that revealed she knew exactly just how much of a sacrifice she’d made.

No one came for her after Judal’s visit and that surprised him more.  From the way he saw her watch the distant horizon too, every morning and night, this was clearly unexpected to her too.

He was sorting tools in the makeshift supply tent when Kougyoku sought him out.  He blinked at her appearance – almost didn’t recognise her.  The rich clothing had finally been discarded, her new attire nondescript and informal.  She must have been borrowed them from someone else and he wondered vaguely who.  The baggy knee-length shorts she could have borrowed easily enough from his own laundry but the ill fitting top was clearly meant for a woman of much larger... assets.

 _Oh, Yamuraiha,_ he knew then.  The mage did seem to have taken a liking to the girl, swiftly taking her under her wing.  It had been the formidable general’s glares and pointed comments which had, in the end, managed to dispel most of the dark rumours flitting around.

“Princess,” He said eventually when it didn’t look like she was going away.  “I almost didn’t recognise you.  Your new clothes are quite becoming.”

A lie.  Though he himself had never been fond of such costly and elaborate garments, in those simple clothes Kougyoku looked... colourless.  Even her hair was not in some outlandish style but pulled back simply in a braid.  One would think she came from royalty now if not for that distinctive hair colouring and the pale skin – still too delicate from days spent inside palace walls. 

She smiled at him, a faint pink bloom on her cheeks.

“That’s sweet of you to say but I know I look terrible.  For once, I don’t really seem to care though.”  She pulled at the baggy fabric a little.  “These are at least more practical – and I intend to show everyone I can make myself useful.”

She looked a little defensive, as if daring him to dispute her and he suppressed a smile.  It was good to know she hadn’t lost her fire at least, considering how placid she had been since Judal had left.

“Did you require something, Princess?” He asked.

She looked uncomfortable.  “You can drop the honorific’s, you know.  I am not longer a princess of _any_ country.  Miss Yamuraiha sent me to pick up more medical supplies and herbs – she’s working over at the hospital again.”

He reached for the correct box instantly – photographic memory was good for something in here.  He cringed a little though, seeing how much emptier the container had gotten recently – the cost of war was indeed taking its toll.

“Are you working as Yamuraiha’s assistant over there?” He asked her as he handed over the bandages.

She nodded.  “I’m not very good though... I find it all makes me a little nauseous.”

“You feel ill at the sight of blood?”

She shook her head vigorously.  “Oh, no.  It’s not that.  I mean – well, yes I do feel a little... faint but it’s just-“

She stopped and looked out again at the sun rising in the distance.

“We did that, you know?  Maybe not me, but my family.  And I could have done something to stop that sooner, to stop the injuries.  I can’t make up for that, you know?”

“No, you can’t,” He said and her face dropped at how harsh his tone was.  He hurried on quickly.  “You can’t just make up for that.  But you can help make a real difference over here.  You’re not useless, Princess.  If you want to make up for your family’s sins, I think that proves that you feel bad enough anyway.  So, don’t stand around apologising – act instead.”

Her face split into a smile. 

“Why are you being so nice to me, Ja’far?  After everything-“

“Do I have any particular reason to not be nice to you?  You’re an ally now after all.”

For a second there he could believe that her happy face would be enough to bring Kings down to their knees.  _The girl really is something..._ She would make a good Queen, he realised.  _One day, with more experience, she really would._ The strategist within him knew how much that would benefit Sindria.  He tried to ignore the other part of him that felt unexpectedly hurt at the thought.  After all, Sin would have to marry _sometime,_ wouldn’t he?  He could hardly expect to keep the King to himself for ever...

“Ja’far?”   Kougyouku said and her magenta eyes were earnest. “Let me fight.  I know King Sinbad would disapprove but – let me, anyway.  I can be of real help to you out there, not worrying in the Infirmary.  Being in there just makes me more nervous.”

“You’re right,” He said.  “Sinbad will disapprove.”

Her face fell a little but her eyes remained beseeching.  Even Ja’far had to admit that look swayed him a little. 

_And I thought I was immune to manipulation..._

“I’ll talk to him about it,” He gave in.  “For what it’s worth, I do agree with you.  I’ll make him see sense.  Just... are you sure you’re ready for this?  I’m not talking about fighting – I’ve seen your djinn equip.  I mean, with seeing _them_ again?”

She shrugged, her bony shoulders frighteningly delicate.

“I can’t avoid them forever.”

***

Following the Princess down to the Infirmary may not have been the best idea.  He’d wanted to check up on Sharrkan and the other men but the whole area was enough to make anyone feel ill.  He could appreciate Kougyouku’s distaste for the place now.  Yamuraiha had looked pale and haggard too.  She’d glared at him though when he suggested she take a rest.

“The people fighting out there can’t rest.  Why should I?  We just keep getting more patients in here every day...”

He’d bit back his angry retort, knowing she wouldn’t listen to him.  Tempers were flaring everywhere it seemed.  _Still,_ he thought, _you’ll be no good to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion._

His eyes passed over Sharrkan’s surprisingly still form on the pallet.

_Or of grief..._

It was too unreal to see the sword meister like this – he was always so loud and full of energy.  To see see him like this, unmoving and quiet, was unsettling.  Still, the man’s eyes flickered open at the sound of Yamuraiha’s complaining and he smiled when he saw Ja’far.  Even through the pain he must be in, he was still smiling that open grin of his.  Ja’far tried to match it with one of his own but found it faltering before it even reached his lips.  Sharrkan’s eyes looked down pointedly at the mes of bandages covering his arm and chest.

“So, I guess I messed up,” He said, voice cracked.

“That’s certainly one way of putting it,” Ja’far said softly.  “Whatever possessed you to go up against a Magi anyway?”

Sharrkan laughed but then stopped abruptly with a sharp hiss of pain.  “What can I say?  The bastard looked at me funny.”

“Oh, a _fine_ excuse for you being an idiot,” Yamuraiha said, darkly.  Her hands weren’t at all gentle as she readjusted the dressed and Sharrkan yelped in complaint. 

“You know, I’d have thought I’d get one of those nice, sweet nurses to take care of me.  Kougyokyu, help a poor guy out, can’t you?  This woman is far too heavy handed!”

Kougyoku blushed but didn’t say anything.  As always, she seemed to grow flustered when flirted with.

“Oh, aren’t I good enough for you, huh?” Yamuraiha snapped.  “After I’ve lost sleep for you, you ungrateful-“

Ja’far left them to it.  He was relieved that Sharrkan was at least well enough to joke around and banter with the mage.

Still though... the damage to his dominant arm was worrying and he wondered if perhaps Sharrkan’s bravado was on purpose.  Even Yamuraiha had seemed like she’d been trying too hard to keep up their standard quips, as if trying to preserve how things had always been.

_And maybe some things are too broken to be mended... what then?_

***

Ja’far choked slightly on the foul taste of copper in his mouth.  He had long since lost track of how much of the blood on his body was his own or belonged to someone else.  Distantly, he was relieved Sinbad was stationed elsewhere, at the front lines of the battlefield, far from himself. 

_He certainly wouldn’t find me attractive right now..._

The wires whirled back into his numb fingers, sticky with gore.  His stomach didn’t clench at the sight, his hands didn’t tremble.  It frightened him sometimes how calm he could take all this, how _at home_ he could feel in the middle of the hell and chaos of warfare.  And again, he wondered which was the true him – that placid person who could spend hours sorting through scrolls, who yearned to feel the touch of Sinbad’s skin against his own or this cold, ruthless killer who was at ease with the sound of screams and blood colouring the air.

He shivered and stopped thinking about it.  _Time to worry about that later.  Now is the time to do what I was trained to._

This wasn’t a big battle he knew, no more than a skirmish perhaps, but even so the death toll on both sides would be heavy.  Kouen had still not ventured out to lead the troops and it was the middle Prince, the one who always looked depressed, who led the charge today.  _All this for land..._

He heard a distant roar of pain and rage too far away to pinpoint and he wondered if Sin had released his djinn equip.  _Already?  Shouldn’t he save it for when it is truly needed?  It won’t do to use up all his energy so soon..._

He regretted the lapse in his concentration as the sharp edge of a sword narrowly missed severing his head from his body.  As it was, his quick eyes caught it in time and his body twisted – not quite fast enough though as the flat of the metal blade bashed the side of his head, the force of it pushing his body down and away with the impact.

He coughed again and this time it _was_ his own blood that he spat out through his lips, staining his already reddened hands.  His headdress had shifted at the hit and he flung it away in irritation.  His head hurt and for a second, the light from the sun blinded him.  But then his instincts kicked in and he was on his feet again, body tensed into the familiar fighting crouch.  He tried to ignore the pain in his head and the way his legs threatened to give out beneath him.  Instead, his eyes focused on his opponent - _Holy Dungeons,_ the kid was younger than he was – and then his body was a whirlwind of movement, the metal blades razor sharp in his hands.  He saw the brief flash of terror in the boy’s eyes before he struck, but he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop the swerve of his arm as it sliced evenly through the exposed area of his neck.

He stepped away gingerly from the ruined mess of the boy’s corpse and felt dizzy.  He found it hard to tear his eyes away though.

_Why is Kouen sending youngsters to fight his battles for him?_

The boy’s eyes were blank, unseeing portals of despair and Ja’far tore himself away; forced himself to move on.  Those eyes would haunt his dreams tonight most likely and not for the first time, he wished he could have shown mercy.

 _Show pity and you die,_ he thought and his fingers checked the tender area on the side of his head where the sword had hit him.  His hair likely covered the worst of the damage.  He could carry on, at least for now.

 _You’re probably concussed,_ a small practical voice in his head told him as a dull headache started.

It didn’t matter.  He would carry on – must carry on.

He retreated back into the blank coolness of his Al Sarmen training and stumbled on to find his next victim.

***

He was beyond grumpy by the time he made it back to his pavilion hours later – and for once Sinbad waiting there for him did not improve his spirits.  It didn’t surprise him that Sin had made it back to camp before him – it was usually Ja’far who stayed on longer to officiate brining in the casualties of the day and clean up.  It had been a victory today, but only just and they’d managed to inch their way a bit closer to the Empire. 

The look of thunder on Sinbad’s face _was_ unexpected though.  Ja’far froze in the entryway and for a second, they scanned one another in their normal way – that quick _Are you okay?_ That they did automatically after any fight.  Sin looked tired, his face hollow but he’d already changed into clean robes that covered most of his skin so whatever damage he had retained was not visible.  Ja’far didn’t even want to think what he must look like.  He pursed his lip slightly and walked in as steadily as he could.  The pounding in his head hadn’t stopped and his skin felt clogged from the blood which had dried upon it.  Still, he met Sin’s eyes calmly, not flinching at the intimidating way the bushy eyebrows were narrowed.

“Aladdin is here,” He said slowly.

 _Oh,_ Ja’far realised.  _It’s_ me _he’s angry at._

In truth he had forgotten about his plea of help to the Magi. He didn’t say anything in reply, instead moved over to the steel bowl and filled it with water.  Lukewarm from the heat of the day but it would do to wash away the marks left from battle.

“Ja’far.”  Sin’s voice was louder now, resonating against the fabric of the interior.  “Look at me.  When were you going to tell me you sent for him?”

Ja’far exhaled, reluctantly turning back.  “I knew you would never agree to-“

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t agree.  So how surprised do you think I was to find that child waiting outside my tent when I got back?”

“We need a Magi, you know that.  Against Judal, we’re-“

“No.  Not a child,” Sinbad interrupted his face full of disappointment.

 _That_ stung and Ja’far turned back to the bowl.  He was too tired to defend his actions, too tired to sugar coat his words.

“Child or otherwise,” He said.  “We are losing this war.  If we don’t have _something_ like him on our side, Sindria will be overrun in a few weeks’ time.” 

He snuck a glance back through the matted strands of his hair.  “Don’t look at me like that.  You know it’s true.  Don’t blame me for not being afraid to face the harsh reality of it.”

Sinbad’s face lowered, his hands steepling as if he were in deep thought.

“I’m not angry at you got bringing Aladdin here.  It was something I wished to avoid if possible but... I agree that we are in enough trouble to call for outside help.  What _upsets_ me is that you went _behind my back_ and did this.  You didn’t even _bother_ to tell me.  You’re supposed to be my adviser, Ja’far so the least you could do is a _dvise me._ And then I find him here and it makes me look like a total fool in front of everyone because I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t think you’re pride was so easily wounded,” Ja’far said through gritted teeth.  He was angry now, too soon after all the mayhem and bloodshed for his mind to have cleared completely yet.

“Come on, you know me better than that,” Sin growled.  But you made me look like an idiot in front of everyone out there, in front of Aladdin too, and that –that is something I would never have expected from you.  I have those people’s respect, all those soldiers out there, but I can lose it just as easily.”

“I’m sorry,” Ja’far said, though it was obvious from his tone how irritated he was.  “I’ll make sure to clear things with you next time before I act.  Even if it is for the good of the country.”

Sinbad stood then, moved close enough so Ja’far couldn’t turn away so easily.  “I just – I thought I knew you better than that.  I know I make mistakes and yes, I trust your judgement more than my own half of the time.  But at least tell me when I’m making a mistake, force me to set it right.  Don’t make me doubt my trust in you, Ja’far.”

It _hurt_ to meet Sin’s eyes then, hurt more than the constant pounding in his head.   And then he flash backed, painfully vivid, back to that lifeless boy’s face on the field – _why him of all the many? –_ to how terrified he had been of him, of Ja’far. 

“Maybe you don’t know me that well at all,” He murmured.

He wanted to close his eyes, to seal away inside that part of himself from Sin, but he didn’t. 

 _Will you look at me with that same fear one day too?_ He wondered.

It was a challenge of sorts, he supposed.  He didn’t close his eyes but let the assassin in him sneak through, knew his pupils had contracted into reptilian coldness.  _This is who I am, what I am.  Hate me if you must, fear me, just... don’t look at me like you_ understand.

But that’s how Sin _was_ looking at him, so sad and so damned kind that Ja’far just wanted to run anywhere those eyes couldn’t reach him.  He blinked and was himself again, the other Ja’far who belonged in the palace in Sindria.

“We all have our demons, Ja’far.  The trick is to keep them hidden beneath the surface.”

He didn’t trust himself to reply to that.  Hadn’t Ja’far always been good at hiding everything that had been brainwashed into him as a child?  He has thought so anyway, but out there with people dying around him – he became that child again.  Back then, it had only been Sinbad who had pulled him away from that life, forced him to believe that was something different out there.

_How do you hide who you really are?_

He felt rather than saw Sin’s hand reach towards him, that familiar gesture, but he stepped smartly away.

“You’ll get dirty if you touch me,” He said, lifting his own hands to show the stains. 

Sinbad looked at him steadily as if he guessed some other meaning in those words.  His lips opened as if he was going to say something but then he sighed.

“I have to go.  Things to be done and a Magi to fill in on recent events.  He brought the Fanalis girl with him too – Masrur will be pleased to have her back.”

“Not the Saluja boy?” Ja’far asked.

“He’s coming, apparently.  Had to stop off somewhere first – Balbadd, I suspect.  The place’s been hit pretty hard by Kou raids.”

Ja’far nodded and splashed water over his face.  Sin must have caught the wince as he stopped in the doorway.

“You’re hurt?  You didn’t say...”

Ja’far hesitated.  Then he remembered Sin’s words from before, the ones he were sure had been a lie too.  “Relax.  It’s not my blood.”

He had expected some sort of reaction – disgust, anger maybe.  Not the slightly calculating look with a touch of humour to it.

“You know, you’re a crappy liar.”

Ja’far swore inwardly and concentrated very hard on the water bowl.  When he looked back a few seconds later, Sin was gone.  _Damn._ He’d forgotten about Kougyoku’s request.  But then, he didn’t think he could have pushed it much further with Sin today.  He sensed that it had only been through Sin’s admittedly limited patience that they hadn’t gotten into a proper argument and he doubted it would have stretched much further.

_What is wrong with me tonight to try and pick a fight like that?_

And hadn’t Sin every right to be angry with him?

He pushed the red tinged bowl away, even though he still hadn’t washed away all the mess and sat down heavily on the bed.  Strange.  He had often argued with Sin before – knew Sin respected him for doing so.  Yet, lately, it had all become so very... complicated.  Different kinds of arguments, ones that mad his heart hurt instead of his head.

_This is why I shouldn’t have fallen in love with someone I work with..._

That argument had made his head hurt worse, he realised.  He hadn’t washed his hair yet and his fingers searched fruitlessly through the tangles to find the wound.  He should go the Infirmary, he knew.  But that was such a long walk and right now, he just wanted to sleep.  Sleep would make his head stop hurting, he was sure, would make him stop thinking.  The pounding intensified and his vision blurred, dissolving into flashing globes of light.  He gave into it and let his eyes shut...


	11. A Note to my Readers

Honestly, when I first started writing this story I had never intended it to be more than the one chapter. It’s easy to see when you read the first two parts of The Desert Truant, that I’d only planned on this being a one-shot. But then a friend of mine persuaded me to keep writing and somehow, this story ended up evolving into something a lot longer and more complicated. As it stands, I’ve hit over 20k in the word count and I’m only about halfway through the plot.  
I also never expected this story to become as popular as it has done – I am immensely flattered and awed by all the lovely, kind comments from people, for all the people who chose to follow this work despite it being on hiatus for two years now. I didn’t want to be one of those fanfic writers who I used to moan about – the ones who stopped a story midway through and never went back to it. But somehow, that happened. I can make plenty of excuses for why: I lost my muse, someone broke my heart, I chose to focus on my original writing instead, and university and real life simply got in the way. At the end of the day, they’re just excuses. I stopped writing because I didn’t think this story had any place in my life anymore.  
I wanted to write this to thank you all for your continued support of this little romance I wrote – and to say that as someone who hates leaving something unfinished, I do intend to finish this fic. It’s taken me a long time to get back to feeling in the right mindset to complete this story but I feel I owe it to you, to myself and ultimately, to the story, to finish it. The Magi fandom has changed a lot in recent years – I’m not even really much of an active part of it anymore - but this ship is still very close to my heart. So, for those people who have patiently and impatiently waited for this story to update … hopefully you won’t have much longer to wait! I hope to have another chapter up within the fortnight – updates after this might be a little sporadic due to life commitments but I’ll try at least to aim to have one out a month.  
Thank you all for not giving up on me – truly, if it hadn’t have been for you all continuing to send me messages about this story, I might have given up on it myself. I hope you continue to enjoy the adventures of a General and his unreliable King. 


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Well, I did promise this story would be back – and here it is! Thanks for all your patience and I hope the wait was worth it. It still took me a while to get this out from my last update about it – my life is still very hectic but in compensation this chapter is longer than normal. Also, someone did request more smut from me so… I tried (and for that I can only apologise). It’s been so long since I’ve written these characters, I was worried I’d lose the feel for them but I think after a slow start I got them to behave like their selves again – there may be a few inaccuracies here and there which I’ll try and fix at a later date though. Anyway… happy reading! The next chapter should hopefully be up sometime in August as I’m super busy preparing for a convention the next few weeks.)

He woke to a splitting headache, as if he’d been drinking the liquor that was Sinbad’s particular favourite the night previous. He certainly felt queasy enough and had that sinking suspicion that he’d done things before he fell unconscious that he regretted. He couldn’t taste the lingering effects of alcohol though and the pain in his head really was rather persistent…  
Of course he’d had concussion before, he realised. Perhaps not as severe as this, but he should have recognised the symptoms earlier. Why didn’t I visit Yamu in the hospital when I was injured? Why…  
Oh. He remembered that too now. The cause of his injury, his fight with Sinbad on his return, Aladdin arriving at the camp.  
Aladdin. The Magi was sat there, large blue eyes blinking at him, worriedly.  
‘Ja’far?’ He piped up, his small arms waving a little in distress. ‘You shouldn’t move just yet. The rukh are still working on you…’  
He was confused for a second. ‘What are you-? Are you… healing me?’ Aladdin nodded, a smile breaking out on his face. Ja’far raised a hand tentatively to his forehead but found only a mess of wadding there – bandages which he suspected Aladdin had attempted to put on him by himself. The bare space on the boy’s arm confirms it, as does the misshapen nature of the wrapping – Yamuraiha would never be so clumsy.  
‘You know, Uncle Sin was really unhappy when Masrur found you passed out like that,’ Aladdin said.  
‘He thought you were dead. Was going to march right down to Kou there and then.’ The serious voice belonged to the Fanalis girl, Ja’far saw. She’d grown somewhat since he’d last seen her – was looking much less of a child, more a young woman. And more talkative too if her words were anything to go by. The meaning behind her words though… that was certainly worrying.  
‘Why would he launch an attack on the Kou in such a reckless way? Unless…’  
‘He thought someone had tried to assassinate you,’ Morgiana helpfully supplied.  
Aladdin looked about as distressed as Ja’far felt. ‘Luckily we found the wound before he could leave. It was pretty scary for a while there.’  
Ja’far felt a sudden rush of guilt then. It had seemed the right thing before – the logical thing to do sending for the help of a Magi. But now, seeing him like this… he was so very, very young. Even time away for a while hadn’t changed much about that round face and open demeanour. I shouldn’t have brought someone so innocent into this. I’m just as devious as the Al Sarmen were, using children as they did.  
Maybe Aladdin had seen the crestfallen look on Ja’far’s face as he looked worried again now. ‘Does it still hurt? Did I do it wrong?’  
‘No, no.’ Ja’far said hurriedly, although truthfully the pain in his head hadn’t quite abated. ‘You’ve done enough.’  
There was a pause for a while and Morgiana and Aladdin shared a significant look.  
‘Things are bad here, aren’t they?’ Aladdin said.  
He has learnt some things while he was away then, Ja’far thought, surprised. Perhaps he had simply never noticed that serious side to Aladdin’s nature in their past meetings, but there was something definitely… older about the Magi now. He’s growing up, Ja’far realised. It saddened him a little – staying around here could only speed that process. He considered briefly going back on his order, sending Aladdin away as far off from this place and its horrors as he could. Knew at the same time he wouldn’t do it. Like it or not, Aladdin was here now and he was to blame for that. Now, he’d have to live with the consequences. Still though, he couldn’t hold back the question.  
‘You didn’t have to come… I know I requested your help in my letter but we can find someone else. Aladdin, your talents can be put to so much better use-‘  
He was stopped by the vehement shaking of the boy’s head. ‘No. I was pleased you sent for me. I didn’t know things were like this for Sindria… that things had gone as far as they have done. I couldn’t just hide away somewhere and wait for it all to be over. Judal’s here too and we… I still want to help him.’  
That sounded like a fool’s mission to Ja’far from his encounters with the Kou’s Magi. Judal… helped? Ridiculous.  
‘You won’t leave then? Even if I ask you to?’  
‘We’re staying.’ This from Morgiana, her fiery gaze, fierce. Her tone brooked no argument and Ja’far had to admire that a little.  
‘Sinbad won’t like you two going onto the battlefield though. Can you keep yourselves busy around here for a while?’  
Morgiana looked like she wanted to argue about that but Aladdin gave her a look that she somehow understood. ‘Until Alibaba gets here. I promised we’d wait for him.’  
A few days then. A week at most. He sensed that bringing their own Magi into this war – and the addition of Alibaba’s own particular skills if the rumours spreading back to Sindria about him were to be believed, would tip the balance in the war. Whether to their favour or not, was still to be determined. He wished he felt comforted by that thought but he didn’t.  
He stood up slowly, and was pleased to find he felt significantly less nauseous now. Judging by how high the sun was in the sky, he figured he’d been out of it about twelve hours.  
‘Where’s Sinbad?’ He asked.  
‘Seeing to the troops. He was around earlier but he wasn’t helping much so Yamu told him to make himself useful elsewhere.’  
Ja’far was glad he hadn’t seen him in such a pathetic state for too long. It was embarrassing enough that he’d been taken off guard like he had in the battlefield but even more so that he had inadvertently caused a fuss in doing so. And, remembering their argument, he knew he couldn’t face Sinbad right now, not when he was still feeling so vulnerable.  
‘Do you want me to get him? He told me to tell him when you woke…’  
‘No,’ Ja’far said, sharply and Aladdin’s eyebrows quirked upwards in shock. ‘I mean,’ Ja’far said hurriedly, ‘you don’t need to bother him if he’s busy. I can see him later. I’d rather get the two of you settled in… you did go to all the trouble of healing me, after all. Thank you for that – it must have been taxing for you, especially after your journey.’  
‘Whatever else we can do…’ The Magi said.  
Aladdin seemed to believe that excuse at least, even if Morgiana’s piercing glare suggested she had seen through his words. He silently begged her to remain silent and thankfully, she did so. Spotting a familiar shade of pink in the distance, he turned to her with a smile.  
‘Actually, there is something you’d both be most helpful with. The Princess Kougyouku has recently joined our ranks and unfortunately there are so few here with the particular skill set needed to train with her. I was thinking perhaps you might be able to help, Morgiana?’ Not to mention, she would benefit from being around some people close to her own age. Kougyouku’s sudden change of disposition since Judal had left had been a niggling worry – as was her repeated assertion that she would also join the troops. As she was technically not a Sindrian subject, Sin couldn’t order her not to… the least they could do was prepare her for it. Carrying blankets and patching wounds all day in the hospital would only blunt her skills. With Alibaba joining them soon too, that would mean their number of djinn users would finally equal that of the Kou Empires – and such a valuable asset couldn’t be wasted.  
Indeed, when they called over the Princess and Ja’far mentioned that she start sparring lessons with Morgiana on a daily basis, her face brightened for the first time in days and there was a distinct reigniting of her old fire in her pale features.  
‘Finally? You really trust me to help now?’  
Ja’far quirked an eyebrow. Had she truly thought they hadn’t trusted her enough to send her into battle? Surely, if they had worried about her loyalty, then sending her into battle would have been the most effective way to get rid of her. But perhaps, with her sheltered upbringing, she hadn’t seen it that way. Her family were notorious warmongers and Ja’far suspected that even as the only girl of the group, bar Hakuei who so seldom remained within the family complex of late, she hadn’t been left out of that. She too had conquered a labyrinth, had proven herself in doing so – wouldn’t she have taken her relegation to campsite duties as an insult then? A denial of her true abilities?  
‘Yes, we trust you, Princess,’ He said. ‘But, I wouldn’t be so hasty to jump into a battle where your family’s lives are at stake. I don’t envy your position at all… but we can’t stop you from doing this. If you’re going to be a soldier, than you must train as one.’  
She still looked too soft, too delicate, he thought. But if Aladdin were going to war, he couldn’t stop her from doing so too.  
As if drawn to the presence of another Fanalis, Masrur appeared, and Ja’far was reminded again of how closely he and Morgiana resembled one another. They greeted each other with silent nods but he thought he caught a smile there too. It was Ja’far who Masrur spoke to though and he was half expecting the words.  
‘Sinbad wants to see you.’ Blunt and to the point which was so very typical of Masrur but the slight questioning look to his eyes gave it away that even he had been worried about Ja’far’s welfare.  
‘Tell him I’m fine. It was nothing he had to worry about.’  
Masrur’s face is as solid and immovable as his body. ‘He won’t hear it from anyone but you.’  
Ja’far sighed in irritation. ‘Then, tell him-‘  
‘I’m not giving messages. I just relayed his.’ Either Masrur is being deliberately obstinate or he knew more than he was letting on. Ja’far suspected the latter and wondered how supposedly secret his and Sinbad’s relationship really was. They never broadcast it, never spoke of it outside their own tent… but sometimes the way the Generals tiptoed around the issue made him wonder if their attempts at remaining clandestine were wasted. Ja’far knew how childish all this is – his avoiding Sinbad because of their fight, Sin sending Masrur of all people to bring him back. It’s beyond ridiculous but Ja’far doesn’t feel like playing to Sinbad’s tune right now.  
‘Fine,’ He said eventually when he realised Masrur wasn’t going to go away until he’d answered him. ‘I’ll go see him now.’  
But he doesn’t, instead whiling away time in the places he doesn’t think Sinbad would frequent – the hospital which Sinbad always pointedly avoided. Yamu looked annoyed to see him however, so he left before she could start examining his head or tell him off for not looking after his health. He thought he caught her yelling after him that Sinbad was looking for him but hoped he’d misheard. The day’s heat is stifling and he’s tempted to retreat back to his tent – but knows this is the first place Sinbad will look for him so he resisted the urge. He’s aware how silly he’s being. It’s not like he can avoid Sinbad forever.  
And of course, the inevitable eventually happened - he turned a corner and there Sin was and, worse yet, he was alone. So much for talking to the soldiers. Ja’far jumped and then tried to cover his reaction. Sinbad had already seen him though and walked towards him faster than Ja’far can move away. With no other option remaining, Ja’far gave in and slowed his walk – it’s not like he had little choice as Sin had already outpaced him.  
‘Are you avoiding me?’ Sinbad said and Ja’far didn’t meet his eyes. Sin’s voice was more frustrated now. ‘You are, aren’t you?’  
‘I’m just… busy.’ Ja’far said and tried to escape. Sin stopped him with a hand to the arm and he pulled away from the touch hastily. Sinbad looked wounded by his rejection but also like he had expected it. No, Ja’far didn’t want to deal with this now, didn’t want to deal with it at all, for as long as he could. How had everything gotten so… serious between them of late? Quarrels and complicated feelings like they were an actual married couple which was practically laughable. And to think he had always complained so much about Sinbad losing his careless attitude and behaving more responsibly. Trust Sin to behave himself right when he didn’t want him to. He’d have almost preferred it if Sinbad were gallivanting off somewhere or carousing with friends – anywhere as long as he wasn’t here right now, having this conversation.  
Sinbad looked at him with an expression surprisingly similar to guilt. ‘Don’t do that… don’t make me chase you. If this is about… before, than I’m sorry. I knew you were hurt. I shouldn’t have left you like that, even if we were arguing. It was callous and pig-headed of me.’  
Ja’far shrugged. ‘It’s only a concussion. I don’t see you fussing over Sharrkan and Spartoi and they deserve the attention more.’  
‘Still… I should have stayed. Some King I am if I can’t even look after my own people.’ There was too much hurt in those self-deprecating words for it to be anything but the truth.  
‘Look, I didn’t want you to stay.’ Ja’far said shortly. ‘Don’t blame yourself – you have bigger problems. We all have bigger problems,’ He said, gaze drifting over to where the camp lay spread out with its scattered array of soldiers. Somewhere in the distance he could hear the sound of metal on metal and knew Kougyouku was already training with the Fanalis.  
Sinbad eyed the bandage Aladdin had fabricated around Ja’far’s forehead. ‘This is why I didn’t want you in battle, you know,’ He said, and his tone was bitter.  
‘What? I was supposed to let you have all the fun?’ Ja’far said, coldly. He disliked that pitying look in Sinbad’s eyes. ‘Do you think me so weak? So damn pathetic that I can’t hold my own in battle? Do you forget what I was like as a child?’  
Sin sucked in a breath sharply, like he was suppressing his own anger. ‘Of course not. I have never, never thought of you as weak, Ja’far. Damn it, what’s so wrong with me wanting to protect you?’  
‘You’re not protecting me, you’re stifling me!’ Ja’far was shocked by how loud his voice had risen. Sinbad certainly looked taken aback, indeed seemed to be struggling to find words.  
‘You won’t even let me protect you from yourself?’  
Ja’far laughed harshly, the sound raw. ‘You can’t protect me from such a thing, Sin. I might try to hide it but I’m all too at home there on the battlefield. Does that shock you? That I’m still just as much of a cold-blooded killer as the day you met me?’  
Sinbad’s face dropped and Ja’far could barely stand to see the sombre look in his eyes. His fingers itched to reach out, to caress away that look of pain.  
He didn’t move.  
Sinbad’s words were quiet when he finally replied. ‘I have never forgotten. But, truthfully, I thought you had. You’re right – it was silly of me to expect you to just stay here and do your duties as you would have done in the palace. I had hoped… you would never have to go through that again, that by taking you away from that group that I had somehow… saved you.’  
Ja’far blinked at him, nonplussed. This wasn’t the reaction he had been expecting from Sinbad. ‘You don’t find me… inhuman? For acting as I do in battle? I don’t disgust you?’  
Sinbad looked up sharply, anger expressed vividly in his dark eyebrows. ‘Is that what all this is about? You, who have washed away the blood from my limbs, seen my body twist itself into new shapes… seen the djinn’s corruption at its worst. Do you truly think that I have any right whatsoever to call you a monster?’ He shook his head. ‘You’re far more human than I’ll ever be.’  
‘I just do a better job at hiding it,’ Ja’far muttered, but he felt the nauseating sensation of guilt in his stomach. Had he truly expected Sinbad to be shocked seeing Ja’far at his worst? Or had he really just not wanted Sin to see him that way? Had he wanted to fool him – fool himself, even – that he wasn’t what he had been trained to be?  
‘I’m an assassin, Sin,’ He said, more to confirm it to himself in words. ‘I don’t wish to be a killer, but I don’t regret it. It has kept me alive – and many times in the past now – it’s kept you alive too. More times than you know. I’m not… I can’t just be your lover, Sin, I –‘ He stumbled; couldn’t find the words to finish his thoughts. Thankfully for once, Sinbad proved himself to be not as much a fool as he too often acted.  
‘You’re asking me if I’ll still accept you? No matter who you kill, what you do? Didn’t I do that long ago?’  
That memory again filled his mind – his weapon inches from slicing the fragile skin of Sinbad’s throat and Sinbad, just lying there watching him with open eyes. Just letting it happen. His chest clenched.  
‘Damn you, Sin. Why do you always have to trust people so much? They only let you down.’  
Sinbad shrugged. ‘Why not trust them? Once I trusted that a small child, raised by vipers, wouldn’t grow fangs and bite me. That child grew to be my most trusted advisor – if, a rather ill-tempered one at that. He has never once let me down.’  
Ja’far turned away, not wanting his face to betray him – he never cried, no, hardly ever. These weren’t tears that were brushing his cheeks, leaving salty traces on his lips.  
‘But I did, didn’t I?’ He said and he was ashamed at how his voice broke a little. Even with Sinbad he still struggled to show emotion most of the time as if by doing so he counteracted the King’s own volatile moods. ‘I let you down by bringing Aladdin here – I knew you didn’t want him involved and I understood why. And still, I brought him into this… this war that’s destroying everything.’  
Sinbad’s words sounded troubled. ‘I don’t deny I was… unhappy you brought him here. But I can also see why you did and that I was too noble to do the same myself. Wasn’t it me who taught you how to use people like pawns to suit our own ends? I can’t exactly get angry at you for doing as I told you.’  
Honestly, Ja’far wished he would. He didn’t want this to be just accepted, wanted some sort of condemnation just to remind himself that his behaviour was out of line.  
‘Sin, I… I don’t know what this war will do to me - how it will change me. How it’s already changing me. What if I become like a stranger to you?’ What if I become someone you can’t love anymore? What then? He didn’t say it, but he was frightened. Ja’far liked control and this was something that he could feel slipping painfully through his fingers.  
He turned back to determine Sin’s reaction – and reeled back a little to see that Sinbad had transformed, the crow-like darkness of the Focalor form eerily settling itself over Sin’s body. For one panicked second, Ja’far’s survival instincts screamed at him – but he knew that if Sinbad wanted to truly attack him there would be no contest. Like this, he could as easily flick away Ja’far’s attack as sand-flies. It’s not even remotely fair and he feels momentarily stung by this before remembering that, after all, isn’t this their greatest asset in this war?  
When it’s obvious from Sin’s deathly still posture that despite his looming presence and heavy breathing, he’s not actually trying to threaten Ja’far, he grew angry instead.  
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing, wasting energy like that? Equipping out of battle is just-‘  
‘I’m trying to prove a point to you, Ja’far.’ Sinbad said, and his voice is a deeper rumble, even the very muscles in his throat and lungs twisted into some new foreign shape by the magic of the djinn.  
It is always unsettling to see him like this – and yet to Ja’far at least, sometimes he thinks it is this form of all the djinns which is best suited to Sinbad’s nature. His true nature which he carefully keeps shadowed away from the public eye. His movements which betray a violent streak Sin normally keeps locked away tight, the inadequate flow of cloth which makes him all the more alluring. Even the dark feathers his hair has assimilated making him appear bird-like, elusive, liable to flee. It is like all the darker elements of Sinbad’s nature have become personified in this one form, every impulse he tries to keep under wraps.  
Regardless, he prefers the old Sinbad more. Sometimes secrets are hidden for a reason – facing them on a daily basis was simply too… painful.  
‘Change back,’ Ja’far said. ‘I can’t stand to see you doing this to yourself-‘  
‘Ja’far,’ Sin’s voice interrupts. ‘Come with me. Now.’  
His movements are swift, like the bird of prey his new form imitates and Ja’far for all his agility struggles to keep up. He doesn’t even think about not following the order though – even like this, Ja’far trusts Sinbad. So, he doesn’t think about how they’re moving away from the campsite and into the desert, how they’re moving away from their little group, away from it all. He just follows Sin’s back – as he always has done.  
When they stop, Ja’far is relieved – he can feel a thin sheen of sweat beading on his skin and the already mangled bandage is unravelling a little. Sin’s back is still turned to him and he waits. Clearly whatever this is that Sinbad wants to talk about must be said away from prying eyes and ears. Its foreboding and Ja’far feels suddenly cold, the sweat turning unpleasantly chill. He wishes he were anywhere else right now – even the battlefield with its own nightmares would be more familiar. Wishes he wasn’t so damn afraid – not of Sin, but of what he has to say. When Sin does finally speak, it is a relief just to be rid of the tension of waiting.  
‘There is no way you can change that would shock or repel me. I have already seen you at your worst. Now, you see me at mine. I am corrupted, in every sense of the word. Do you truly think I could be so much a hypocrite as to reject you when I look like this?’  
The last word is a hiss and Ja’far starts a little. He can hear the pain there in the words, practically feel Sin’s body shaking. Yet, still he refused to resume his old form, his face a twisted mask of exertion as he fought back the rukh from taking hold of his body the more. Seeing him like that is more than Ja’far can stand.  
‘You’re so goddamn selfish!’ He snarled. ‘Do you not see what you’re doing is hurting everyone around you?’  
Sinbad blinked, nonplussed. ‘I don’t understand…’  
Ja’far closed his eyes, sucking a breath of the humid desert art sharply. He didn’t feel any calmer when he opened his eyes.  
‘You showing such a blatant disregard for yourself like this. You think you’re being so damn noble, protecting us all with this form. When it’s exactly the opposite! What happens the day you push it too far? The day you let the taint take too great a hold? Did you ever even stop to think how…‘ He broke off, his words strangled with emotion. Waited a second and tried again. ‘Do you ever think about the people around you? Those you would leave behind? A King has a duty to his country – not just to protect it but to stay alive to rule it. Yamu, Sharrkan, Drakon, Kougyouku – even Aladdin. Do you not think of how what you’re doing hurts them?’  
Sinbad’s face is clearly pained now, beneath the long feathers of his hair and Ja’far knows it’s from his words not the djinn’s pull.  
‘And you too? All this time… have I been hurting you?’  
Ja’far almost laughed at that. ‘Of course, me too!’ He hissed. ‘What did you think I was - just some bystander? I love you, Sin, but I can’t stand to see you self-destruct and care so little about doing so.’  
Sinbad’s head was bowed, his expression lost beneath the waves of hair. Ja’far moved closer and placed a hand on the Sin’s arm – the tanned skin now marred with the darker taint of the rukh.  
‘You looking like this doesn’t disgust me, Sin.’ The opposite in fact though he was loth to admit it – it was almost impossible to ignore the fresh expanse of skin on display in this form. There was something about djinn equips he’d noticed in the past, that meant they seemed to evade clothing. Normally it annoyed him. What little fabric still clung to his form didn’t leave much to the imagination, even for someone with as little imagination as Ja’far. He could feel his face colouring a little and rushed on quickly with his words. ‘Beneath this, you are still just Sinbad. But, don’t rely on it so much. Don’t taint yourself on purpose. Promise me?’  
Sin’s hands are suddenly in his hair, scraping against the loose end of his bandage. The embrace is clumsy for him, perhaps the more so for his altered form. He has never touched Sin before in full equip mode, Ja’far realises. Didn’t think Sinbad wished to be touched. But maybe, he’d been wrong.  
‘Do you know that’s the first time you’ve told me you loved me?’ Sin’s voice was a raspy whisper by his ear.  
Ja’far frowned. ‘I thought that was obvious. I have always-‘  
‘Yes, yes. You’ll follow me down any path, you’ve said so before. So would any of my generals. But this is the first time you’ve mentioned you love me.’  
Ja’far really did colour then and knew this time he could do nothing to hide it, not with Sinbad so damn close. ‘You’re not still angry with me then?’ Ja’far asked.  
Sin laughed. ‘No. I think we’ve both caused each other enough trouble. You still angry at me?’  
Ja’far’s lips curved into a small smile. ‘Yes. One way or another I’m generally always annoyed at you – it’s just something you bring out in me.’  
Sin’s hand moved lower then and Ja’far breathed in, suddenly very aware of the heat radiating off Sinbad’s body – of how close Sin was to him.  
‘Do you find me so very irritating?’ Sin said, his surprisingly deft hands moving beneath Ja’far’s robes, fingers searching out bare skin.  
‘Yes,’ Ja’far said, but his voice was uncertain, weak almost. He felt the sash drop away from his body, his robes hanging loosely over his limbs. Sin’s touch was more intimate now, his caress invasive. Ja’far felt like he was suffocating, Sinbad’s touch, his breathing, his scent surrounding him.  
‘Do you find this annoying? Shall I stop?’ Sin’s voice is like velvet and Ja’far can only shake his head in reply. Ja’far brushed his own fingers over the markings on Sinbad’s chest and then tensed, remembering.  
‘Not like this. You shouldn’t – we shouldn’t.’ Damn it Sin, won’t this just cause you more damage? ‘Change back,’ He pleaded.  
‘You don’t find me attractive this way? I’m hurt.’ Sin’s tone is humorous however.  
‘You know I do,’ Ja’far admitted, regretting the admission instantly. ‘But, that isn’t the point-‘  
Sinbad stopped him with a finger to the lips and smiled. ‘For once, let me decide something. I won’t overdo it in future, okay? And I’m not right now. The djinn just wants to…play.’  
Then Sinbad kissed him with all his typical hungry fervour, the remnants of his already inadequate clothing slipping away and Ja’far is quite honestly long past protesting. Sinbad like this – transformed – is a whole different creature from the one he is so used to. He isn’t sure if it’s the influence of Focalor but Sin’s movements are more heated, violent even. He’d never been curious before about how changed Sinbad might act when like. Too late to worry about it now.  
Feral. That is what Sin’s fevered caresses brought to mind. The way he strips Ja’far of his own remaining clothing, looks at him with glowing eyes like he wants to eat him right up. Ja’far shivered as Sin’s fingers slid down the bare skin of his back. He pulled his body closer to Sin’s, chest to chest. He isn’t sure but he thinks he can feel Sin’s frantic heartbeat, a thrum passing from the man’s bronzed skin to his own. An effect of the rukh perhaps? He wondered. The beat is awfully fast and this worries him – he even starts to say something, to suggest that this really is too much for Sin and they should stop now before it’s too late. Even though he knows it’s already too late. Never gets the chance as Sin held him tighter and he can feel his legs being spread. He wouldn’t… Ja’far only managed to think that thought so far before his fear is confirmed and Sin pushes himself in. It’s not soft and it’s not slow and it hurts like hell. Ja’far cried out in pain, hands tangling in the long tendrils of Sin’s hair.  
There’s an apology there in Sin’s eyes, he can make out that much through the fevered pain. Despite his ridiculous propensity to catch Ja’far unawares in the bedroom before, he has always been gentle and surprisingly careful. This is nothing like that. Part of him wondered if Sin had lied to him before – that he really was still angry at him and this was his form of punishment. But no, he can hear Sin’s words whispered near his ear and it cuts through right to the core.  
‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I can’t… can’t control it. I didn’t mean to… God, hurting you was the last thing I wanted.’  
So, Ja’far did the only thing he can. He gritted his teeth and grinned through the pain, forcing his body to relax in Sinbad’s arms, even as every muscle screamed at him to tense and pull away. He silenced Sin’s apologies with kisses. Yes, I accept you. Even like this. Sinbad is shaking, as if that too is beyond his control. Still, he thrust deeper and Ja’far tried to stifle his cry this time, biting down on the soft skin of Sin’s neck. When he pulled back, his breathing fast and frantic, he can see the marks he’s left on Sinbad’s collarbone. It amused him a little – normally it is Sin who leaves the tell-tale bruises so vividly on his skin. He almost mentions this, but the glazed look in Sin’s orange eyes suggests he is too far away to register anything else. It is as if he has only one desire right now – to satiate his need – and everything else has faded into oblivion.  
Ja’far may be no stranger to pain, but this is pushing even his thresholds. Still, he sank fingernails into Sin’s back – it is his fault after all, so this seems only fair – and let Sin’s body rock him. Somewhere along the way, the shock of the pain diminished and despite himself, he began to be swept along by Sin’s desire too. His breathing became more of a panting sigh and every time he brushed against Sin’s chest, heat exploded inside him. It built and built until Ja’far wasn’t sure how much of it was radiating from Sinbad or himself. Just when he was beginning to think he could take no more, his body aching from sensitivity, Sin uttered a strangled moan as he found his release. A few seconds later, Ja’far did as well, his fingers finally loosening their vice grip on Sin’s back.  
Suddenly light-headed, his legs gave out on him and both he and Sin fell clumsily to the sandy floor. It felt unpleasantly gritty, but Ja’far didn’t think he had it in him to move just yet. Despite that last surge of pleasure, it still hurt. He stretched cat-like against Sin’s body – his suddenly clear and familiar body. Somewhere at the end there, the djinn’s hold must have retracted and he had transformed back.  
Sinbad blinked at him with sleepy eyes. ‘So?’ He asked.  
Ja’far’s nose wrinkled. ‘Honestly, I wouldn’t recommend trying that too often. I don’t think it’s healthy for either of us.’  
Sin laughed then, sounding impossibly tired. He probably hadn’t slept properly in days, Ja’far realised. None of them had slept well in days – weeks, even. The threat of war all around them did not make for pleasant dreams.  
That thought made him reach for his scattered clothing, pulling it back on as well as he could despite its wrinkled and grainy state. His body ached in protest at the movement but he bit his lip and ignored it. He had a sinking suspicion that Sinbad had succeeded – again – in distracting him from his original argument. Had he ever even got a straight answer from the man about his usage of the djinns? No… he didn’t think he had. Sinbad caught his hand as he was fastening the sash, fingers tangling with Ja’fars’.  
‘Do we have to go back so soon?’  
Ja’far shot him a baleful glare. ‘I don’t have to remind you that we have a country to defend. Your country. I’ve already wasted enough time today with this damn concussion.’  
Sin sighed. ‘All business as usual.’  
Ja’far threw Sin’s robes at him. ‘Get dressed already. There’ll be time enough to play games later after the war.’  
If we win the war, Ja’far finished silently. He had only started to admit to himself of late that he was doubts whether they could. The enemy was so many and Kouen hadn’t even ventured out of the sanctuary of his city yet. Whereas their numbers were rapidly depleting…  
‘Slave driver,’ Sinbad complained but he must have seen the look in Ja’far’s eyes as he pulled his robes on anyway.  
They started the trudge back to the campsite, the sun a burning whiteness blurring his vision a little. He wasn’t sure what makes him confess – maybe it’s just that he wanted to test exactly how far Sin’s supposed acceptance of him will stretch. Maybe it’s because he just needed to tell someone and as much as he didn’t want to show that side of himself more to Sinbad than he has to, he is probably also the only person who would understand.  
‘I killed a boy out there on the field. Twelve, maybe thirteen years old. It wasn’t the first… and it likely won’t be the last.’  
He can’t stay still under Sin’s gaze, his hands flexing and unflexing around the familiar twist of wire wrapped around his skin.  
‘It bothers you?’ Sin asked.  
‘Of course it bothers me!’ Ja’far said, voice as sharp as the metal digging into his skin. ‘But it doesn’t bother me as much as it should. I know if I could rewind and go back to that time – I would still do it. He was a threat to you, to Sindria. Barely a threat but one day, he might have been. It’s not war Sin, its murder.’  
‘I never asked you to-‘  
‘You don’t have to. We all have our roles, Sin. This is mine.’  
Sinbad sighed, his shoulders heavy. ‘I really am a burden to you, aren’t I?’  
Ja’far shrugged. ‘Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself. You forget – I like to work.’  
They walked on and, for once, when Sinbad’s arm linked with his own, he didn’t pull away. Not until they were closer to the camp anyway. His head throbbed dully, more from subconscious pain he suspected than actual. It brought back to him again, the shocked face of the boy on the battlefield and he felt queasy.  
If you’re tainted Sin, then so am I. We share that, at least. At least we’ll keep each company if we fall into corruption.  
Oddly, that thought was comforting.


End file.
